If pain was a splinter I could easily pull out of you, I’d be the stem with the thorns protecting the flowers.

Thousands of years I have lived
And now I feel like little bacteria
My heart is filled with pores
And people call it ostia

The night's are glazing with pleurobranchia
And thank God I didn't get ******* hemiplegia
Solitary I feel in my animal kingdom
I wish I could do something with my boredom.

How amazing are these euplectellian shrimps
Dieing together imprisoned
Symptoms of true love they show to me
Together up to death they are known to be.

Maybe I am the class imperfecta
But by birth I am a mammalia
I wish we could both be mycorrhiza
And get hallucinated with amanita.

Someday we would make a synapse
And get into the love with mitochondria
And there our nervous system stops
And there the impulse will walk .

No special organelles I have
I'm just 70s ribosome
My heart is incipient
With foldings of mesosome

I imagine her night –
her winter, her dark – better
defined your light,
the same way black velvet
offers a showy diamond.

A diamond,
your diamond,
full of beans,
along with mine,
full of shrieks,

seeds we’ve germinated.
Yours is tall and yellow;
mine blue and pensive.
Kindred, we
dream a garden for them.