The Solution of Another

For full text of poem:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Z12sBsTSUj6MHomOqDLxLXSaXAlxVKm4ZXrDQUqFlqE/edit?usp=sharingThe Solution of Another it's only after a few years  of living in an isolation cell that i recognize the rigidity of the order i've established inside myself the reflection of myself is surprising that i must care to fluff the pillows and pick up almost everything but leave it messy enough he doesn't think  i'm a perfectionistic clean freak everything has had to be just so  in my domain as everything outside my control  is just so awful i never thought i'd be her wound so tight i always looked pitifully on others who held the reins of their lives so high up and tight there was never any chance their path could meander or stray from the straight line directly in front of them i used to feel sorry  for their mistaking that level of influence as having any bearing  on the wider world but now i can feel the inflexibility of my own mind tidying up and it's a feeling like when  a syrup starts to crystallize and what was moving starts to harden and its motion is slow and stiffened still sweet but it sticks to itself so i see where i've become this way as a new experience of a man  appears in my isolation cell and as i try to defend against  the crazies and the schmucks i see their parts a crazy arm or  a schmucky leg  in my peripheral  is caught attached to my own body and so i hear“ it's coming from inside the house” ew the nicest part of having him here hands down  and still off each other at that point was just the long safe loving look in his eyes an affirmation of intended kindness so that we can take murderer off the table as a possibility that's a nice start for romance and those spacious 3 or 4 seconds maybe two blinks were so tender and reassuring that my heart could see his heart coming from the back of those dark brown eyes after that he leaned in to kiss me and from there it was slightly downhill the choreography was choppy and he bumbled but i didn't ask him to stop from his respectfully restrained state earlier he was a bit like a boy at a feast eyes wide and unable to decide if he wanted a taste from here or there his hands already occupied and yet  he wants another fistful from a different dish but all this is forgiven and my soft short almost imperceptible sighs of enjoyment did not impart my small disappointment at the gently lurching pace of the dance the fact he's a wrestler and unafraid to show a scrappy throwdown side must be what has made his arms so strong his hug like an iron band around a barrel and i see this wily part of myself grappling for position quietly taking my place on top to pin him down beneath me where he's below my level and he can't hurt me there but in truth he could kick my ass and get out of any hold i tried an octopus of a man with a disdain for any authority placed over him and a will to overc