I am cab ma, please
don’t! Is I, lass, I who brought
scald without such pains.

I am mumbling
coherently a ******
most apparently.

Phospholipids leave
envelope area soon
endoplasmic doom.

Opened neutral taste
I’m sinking in laughing at
something sunken in.

What hell overwhelm
brings ribosome organelle
use geared hither, tell?

Seceded certain
atoms like Democritus
withdrew incursion.

Truncated heavy
organelles under tissue
systems use cycles.

Half polypeptide
accents intergenetic
nuclear spaces.

Seeing you drops me

into a roiling hot-spring (extra-dimensionally speaking) where
the insides are known to welter—their opalescent phospholipids

doing the wave at lightspeeds. Faster. Creating
a ring of light. Now the sound of light. From inside, creating

            Me.      You

            make me light.

Oh the way you came towards me in that vermillion cardigan!
The color was not as fierce as your eyes! But I saw, too,

their softness behind—their yolk. And with mine I asked
            as you passed me by
what would happen if I broke            the shimmering membrane?
            
            Would your water leak to blossom
the spell-bound violet amaranths that sleep their promise
                         in Borges’ living garden?
            
            Or would it spill thick in crimson?
The hot sweet density tasting
                         like a wound freshly opened.

The taste I’ve come to know
                                 when women’s eyes have made me light.

But what's the point?

Phospholipids, sucrose, phosphates
Biology feels like memorizing vocabulary.

Absquatulate, etymological, effluvium
English wants me to be a human glossary.

Axiom, cartesian, diophantine
Math is repeating the same problems in different ways.

Feudalism, hegemony, cartellino
History is staring at facts about dead people.

Humdrum, repetitiousness, homogeneity
Every second of monotony bores me.

Was it always like this?

42,43,44
***** phospholipids
we won't do them anymore