Quark Postulate

Like you wondered if I'd prefer sushi,
delicate and raw, with hot wasabi;
or quark, oysters, other succulent things --
you wondered how I viewed the world.

Funny how we embrace the conclusion
people not only meet, but could pass through
each other -- eager approach to portent,
shuffling frog-pocketed, curtseying.

You wondered if the rules of science or
transcendence apply, which way I see it,
and how our molecules should fast fly through
ourselves, through a bliss of a moment's merge.

Close your eyes; tingle my skin. We hug tight --
hard, wet -- and fill these spaces within us.

the cathedral of you

A galaxy of spiral arms and legs, sheets
twisted into Fibonacci curves; my finger-
tips read your body's braille     billions
of light years back to a hot, quark soup.

All gravity, all weighty matters are
just one grain of salt in the cathedral
spaces of you. Words, moans     bump
and fuse     elementals born of the same

supernova. In kismet alignment
molecules merge; my heart beats blue
into your dawns and nights, into red-
algae seas where there is no you nor I.

Time stands still at the speed of light,
a sonnet wrapped tight in its double helix.

return to table of contents
  Home Contributors Past Issues Favorites   Links  Guidelines About Us