wriggles like space-time jello,
we two carrot sticks
puddle somewhere in the vicinity of Mars,
meeting on the marshmallow
The earth streaks backward/below/before us
as our pickup carrot sticks cross in AD 2006,
random as atoms smashing
like party cocktail glasses for a good toast.
after months of squirming around
to braid futures,
entwine our nows.
If you hold the universe in your hand
all ice-block frozen,
you see us only as blur,
all of our moments fuzzed into an unclear picture
or perhaps only one
What will feel like years to us
won’t even bubble air in that spacetime block.
Our dance of experiences shared and unshared
will only look like our lives
when you zoom in close,
layered with invisible emotions
that show up as color,
or perhaps as song
accompanying the visual light
of molecules vibrating themselves
to connect forward and backward
in space, in time.
What my mind loves is taking the tour
again and again
from disconnection –
singular perception –
to connection –
there is no space, all is fabric –
from small – we are molecules –
to large – all is all –
forward and backward in time,
my carrot stick
tasting a lot like joy.