A singularity is a point in a black hole of infinite density so that all matter and energy is crushed together so there is nothing between us


There is nothing between us
No skin
No flesh
No blood
No bone.

We are a transient dance etched into the membrane of being.
We are softly laced with the delicate threads of string theory.
We exist in dimensions you could hardly guess at.
We play in a place where there is no Yin or Yang;
Only pure Chi: indivisible.

And all the raging, raving beauty of the world declares
That love is not something you make or do, but
That love is who you are, and often
Oh, so very often
Love is letting go.
So,
No,

There is nothing between us
No skin
No Flesh
No blood
No bone.

I give you a word
And press it to your ear like kisses.
This is the nature of poems
That they tremble in the flesh
Like fireflies fading too soon.

I give you a word
And press it to your eyes like laughter
After the nature of sun-glow
Dazzling Damascus wonders
Like the meridian at noon

I give you a word
And press it to your heart like honey
Funny the nature of speaking
That can frazzle the nerves and sparkle
Like skyrockets chasing the Moon.

I will give you a word
And press it to your tongue like thunder
Under the nature of breathing
That flutters in your registers
Like an old song without a tune

I give you these words
Will you give me your ears
And your eyes
And your heart
And your voice