The Ipso Facto How So

Just when the light shines particle wrong,
All the world falls right somehow.
Then 2 plus 2 is ever five,
Unless, of course, it’s three.
And as the coronal plane is cut,
Reversed, re-sewn, all Idi Amin style,
I’d swear I see
Your face in me,
Mirrored in the rain dimpled Nile.

Then I feel the riptide tug,

Taking me down

For the third time now,
And when I cross my eyes just so,
I’d swear you have a moo-moo brow,
And I, a hard-hat chin strap.
And this is strange, but good, I know,
But convince me again, Sweet Lover,
How so?

-jenn long