fusion

 That night we were husband and wife on a molecular level,

I wonder,

Did you consume any of my dna,

Or did everything really spill out on my fitted sheet?

I try to believe that at least some of me 

Had been absorbed by you in the most cellular way, 

Though most of me had been blocked to spill out on the bed.

Your IUD took care of that.

And now it’s a stain on my mattress.

Still, I’m now absorbed in you in my most abstract thoughts,

Ignorant of the vast space between atoms 

Which we have no means of perceiving.

For days afterwards, I didn’t hear from you

And you were only in the dark matter of my dreams,

Retaining that energy as we stretched and expanded.

You were accelerating from my center and

I don’t know why.