If my body were strings—
Dancing to pure vibration
Granting the possibility
of lively, touchable matter,
Matter itself would hinge
on the sweet tremor of your name.

It sure felt the rip—
Heart out my ribs—
when your voice went silent.

Still,
in love-frequencies,
such filaments rejoice:
knotting and tangling
replaying us through
Several hidden dimensions—

Or whatever modern physics
keeps hinting at it.

I lost my focus—dreaming a quantum leap—

Believe me:
Such threads tense at every thought
of their plausible alignments:
A bunch of them making
Your ancestors’ atoms colliding!
Just so one day
— for my own personal desire—
one random entanglement
could finally produce—
the loveliest colour
your eyes would have.