Life is so complex it seems to need
many millions of years to evolve.
Yet you and I met online and got married
last month. We bought a house.
Now, with the advantage of experience,
you claim I am an organism that lives
in conditions found in deep sea vents—
those gassy, metal-laden plumes
caused by seawater interacting with
magma erupting through the ocean floor.
I counterclaim that I’m a living man
and, of equal importance, your spouse.
I also claim that you, an exotic life form,
must have been forged in the heat
of some fairly extreme chemistry
yourself. Maybe Montebello, California.
In any case, I thought I’d warn ya,
I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up.
I’m stuck in the middle with you.
You and I are destined to do this forever.
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