Folie à deux

("shared madness," or "madness for two").

I suffer in silence, though not alone

kvetching old curmudgeon (me)

(once upon a time, a promising

long haired pencil necked geek)

buzzfeeding off life's miniseries

of unedited miseries in tandem

with ideal counterpart ofttimes

easily mistaken for a clone

Matthew Scott Harris

unable to function without her

(zee wife), he doth espouse

as integral to calculus of his existence

plus attributes wizardly

powers within (yours truly)

derived, highfived, and thrived

courtesy (think symbiotic),

quietly riotously quintessentially,

nevertheless beloved hen pecking crone,

we carrion and cavort

(our respective wings

beating at speed of sound)

generating humming drone

beehive ving amorously exhibiting

unchoreographed tableaux

long practiced routine

equilibrium intermittently punctuated

with dynamic pantomime

tour de force communion

words superfluous

since telepathic communication

predominates the unspoken wavelength

long established modus operandi

since... before pledging our troth,

while each ourselves in utero

womb during fait accompli

vis a vis gamely matched

think arranged embryonic marriage,

thus marital covenant

essentially linkedin since conception

both of us coaxed when livingsocial

no longer being tethered

to umbilical cord as lifelong playmates

forging compatible association,

now a gratuitous nod to our long since

dearly departed mothers

unbeknownst to them

how like firmly attached barnacles

each handily, snugly, and warmly fit

(esse mitten hand over fist gal love)

vicariously experienced reciprocal

trials and tribulations whatever fate

visited head of the other

permanently anchoring nsync

out rolling - rock of Gibraltar

across metaphorical stormy seas

trying against all odds

to weather strongest emotional/

psychological tempests wallowing,

née drowning in despair

at aging body, fading senses,

and thinning hair

which last named akin to Samson

bolsters mein kampf since... infancy,

whose counterpart betraying me

like Delilah wishing and threatening

(albeit jestingly) to lop off golden locks

each hair reed stranded longfellow

woolworth more'n fine spun gold!