It felt like a tire stuck in the mud,
like a furious, roaring struggle
to get nowhere.
It felt like a pair of quivering lips,
like the mindless bouncing of a foot,
or a finger twisting a telephone cord
like a stray curl of hair.
You were movement without meaning.
You were a twitch – instinctive
Like a knee-jerk,
like pure impulsive reflex
our love was all the quiet chaos
of a spastic muscle.