I’m tired

of two-sided arguments,
black helicopters,
white knights.

Give me the circle
and its tender slope
back upon itself.

Tell me things I can’t imagine ever
having opposites.
What is the opposite of water? of breath?

I give up formally
on hot and cold,
good and evil, love and hate.

Give me a face that opens
itself the way
a sunrise can, if observed carefully enough —

it should look exactly
the way a sunset does, even though
it is about beginning it is

also an ending.
Do I know you? Are you
not me? Are we not each other

when all’s spoken?
Why will we not admit this:
everyone’s a problem and a solution.

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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