shrinking, squeezing, constricting
like old lovers do
im falling down the space between molecules
be my hydrogen, let me be stable
pressing my fingers into the table
(will it go through this time?)

the tension between my temples
seem to be courting, it's simple.
just not elevated, alone, or incidental.
tease apart my form, my chemical bonds
fissure the aching need
from when it was thought to be wrong.

if carbon is carbon,
and dust is dust,
when will i find my home in You?
i know i must.