Sunday, April 3, 2011

Under the Microscope

The world I can't see--my body
swimming with trillions of cells, an ocean
packed with fish or fluid
factories. And atoms, then nuclei and electrons,
a world tinier than my dumb eyes can imagine.
Sometimes, I want to be
that small, sometimes I want to be one of the many,
lost in relentless work, efficiency, invisibility.

I'd like to be a cell in my lover's
heart and travel with him behind the East Wall,
the region of his retreat. I'd join
him in those bottles and daydreams,
climb within him in those one-man beds,
nights of despair, stargazing, fear,
crying spells, freedom, and grief.

Within him I'd work, swishing like a fish,
always moving, always refreshing.
Here I am within his heart, working
tirelessly to repair what ails it.

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