I am reaching for a potency
to ease the restlessness in me
and in doing so I ought to be
aware of my dichotomy.

The half of pent-up energy
has odds with all anatomy,
and shouts about its time to seek
a solace from this shell of weeds.

The other watches mildly,
all blinking eyes and ill-at-ease -
its mind abuzz with things-to-be;
expression drifting vacantly.

Whoever would encounter these
halves a-whole in some degree
may go away or stay to see
what concludes of he-complete.

Depending on their urgency,
they may feel love or some discreet
wash of feeling in shades of pink
that draw them close in coming weeks.

And all that's left is lunacy,
and complex need for subtlety;
all the while we hit the sheets
and do something about our needs.