If Einstein was right,
then there is no long straight
string of time
and everything is cyclical
boundaries in flux, beginnings
and ends mutable, or nonexistent
and who’s to say that as I lean
over the sink its particles don’t
expand to accept a few of mine
and we don’t become intertwined
for a moment or few or
that the paste doesn't serve as some
emulsifier between enamel and bristle,
combining tooth and brush
and eliminating plaque in between
and how, then, can I know what
is over? or what has just begun?
if the events before ever ended
or if we have always wanted each other
brushed our teeth side-by-side
slept together every night
wished for the same things
but won’t ever end up.
1 comment:
the subtle hug of electron clouds:
for certain we are each other, just not in the ways we want to be; ways that make anything easier.
maybe you could metaphorize plaque a little bit in the body of the thing, making it representative of interpersonal buffer zones or something. at least balance it out with the qualities applied to paste.
this is a really great piece.
i'm out of the gig
but i like yr words.
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