God in the Details.
“Quantum Entanglement: a phenomenon in which two quantum particles interact in such a way that they appear to share the same existence. This means that the measurement of one particle influences the second particle immediately, no matter how far away they happen to be from each other. In this respect, the quantum state of each particle cannot be described independently of the others”.–Perimeter Institute
I wonder if your spin is equivalent in
opposite to my spin
if my charge is your charge, my drain
my speed yours, and our slow
mimicked and mirrored
in our distance we keep time
a match of steps
a micro-chasm of details spun out
The taste of strawberries and Brie
of tooth rot from sweet wine
and chapped sensitive skin.
like this we veer forth to map the astros
as cosmonauts and cosmic yeses.
Gleam a delicate trust in the centrifuge of it all.
around the sky knot dance floor, we are
wide swooping arcs
radiant in magnetic resonating absence
eager to kiss the frozen coast of Antarctica
and mull the ice melts around our teeth.
The blossom of abyss and space
to us like so many silver maple trees
with red budded flower-fruit, feels
like and endless day-trip.
A stroll far flung from each other, removed
yet fulfilled in distant embrace
when I take a tongue full of pate
you taste the wetted mouth of savory
creamed meat suddenly while petting the
sleek red pelt of your pubic landscape
where I receive the phantom tingle.
The universe does not ask can we court
each other without touching,
the universe says everything exists in
multi mirrored reflection
the universe says everything
If you cannot hear me, you can feel me.
Coast across the magnetic pulses of our
bodies, electrostatic fizzes of emotion
to caress and careen
around our corridors, and sink into our
beings, our bones are white bleached in
the sun as also they are flushed yellow
lively with blood and marrow.
Waltz in the abstract, in the aeons
of our distance. Together we can see,
we can dream over the dreamless,
and touch-kiss the ends of time until our
lips and finger tips are numb.
Liv H. Scott is a St. Louis poet and native. Their poetry has appeared in The Nassau Review, River River Journal, and FROM: SAC. Liv believes in acknowledging joy and learning to sit with the feeling, accepting its comfort and brevity. They wishes to impress upon others the importance of the minutiae– the first sip of coffee on a brisk morning, the smoothness of a sunflower seed under your tongue, the pleasure of a kiss on the temple.