An interlude of interlopers.  Interested?
Singles are singed; couples are charred.
Split among the foci, we.
Is a poem more its components
or the connection between them?
Carefully-curated indecent exposure.
But what will be what it is now?
If I do it your way most of the time,
surely I earn the right to do it my way
once in a while.  I love not to hate,
except when hate is right.
Let us not make saints
of the ones we have treated the worst.
Too much is never enough.