sonnet My mate and I

My mate and I are bean and pea in pod
And where you touch on her you touch on two
A situation you miss you mocking skew
You sidle passenger youre oodles odd
You jostled me and hurried her a nod
Youre green in envy we imbue bruise blue
You polarised x y and z in hue
Youve cut us down as pips on cone and rod
You jostle her in hints you hunt a flaw
Your echoes decimate us dally droll
Vanilla nice you cede your seed as whole
And I add we inflate your civil craw
Experience out of body peeking me
As her as self absorbed you do agree?
Chorus me mig moi