Kangaroos

Your dancing, effortless and beautiful,
Reminds me of my own, frightful, bizarre,
Unhinged, ridiculous and dutiful.
Most clearly, darling, I’m not who you are.
I was a scholar and a teacher then,
When we first danced together. Now I’m not.
For a day I was the happiest of men,
But I ought to have given it more thought.
I never understood you, or the dance,
Or anything about how women choose,
Decisions about bodies and romance
As foreign to my mind as kangaroos.
I reckon that a conscience wouldn’t do,
Just one more thing that would inhibit you.