Three Makes a Pattern

Everyone knows
Three makes a pattern
Because one and two just won't do
When establishing a baseline.

One
Stands alone in time
This lust and longing
Curves and pulsing
Awkward fumbles
In, around and everywhere
For something...

Might just be a morbid curiosity
Just an unscratched itch
Just a carnal need
To sink nails into shoulder blades
Knees into chests
Pieces... into other pieces.

Maybe I remind you of the hatefuck you never had
The love you never had the chance to lose
The lie you never had the chance to live.

Maybe I burn electric and you yearn
For the jolt of skin meeting skin
Legs... wrapped around anything.

At Two
Those who need
Perk
With the hope that reprisal
Whispers a silent provocation of implication
You're reeling to recapture
The way you quaked and trembled
Begging to embrace the chaos
And sip the warmth of something new. 

At Two
Those who seek
Strive
With the hope that reprisal
Screams to match rhythmic moans
To a heartsong you haven't heard.
The way you try to fake and mirror
The passion in another
Just a little longer.

At Two
You don't know...
But you might.

And one in the might
Is worth two in the know
Which is why we never make it to three.