Due tomorrow.
She times blowing the
Candles at exactly 6pm.
Cuts cake exactly half
So that, the day and
The night are equally
Split in half.
She's obsessed about
This day, maybe
Possessed. Equinox
It is she says.
Half of her 'should
Have been height',
Confused about cutting
Her boyfriend laterally
Or vertically to call
Him her better half.
The stuff she explains
Sometimes pervades,
Halfwit of the humans.
So she writes verses
Like they got a half-life.
Never-ending, infinite,
Almost finished,
Yet something left.
Half you get, half you
Can't. There's always half
And half of something as
It's equinox.