The string theory of you and I:
You yank, I trip.
You spin, I stumble gracelessly
Just to land at your feet
Seeking asylum, not understanding
Why my world turns so violently.

Even now
As I work to unravel the webs
That stretch between us,
I hesitate to make the silks tremble,
To alert you to the motions that I make.
You will descend,
All hands and mouth and desire,
And wrap me again in your sturdy cocoon.

So quietly I grasp the strands
And unweave, untangle, reverse
The patterns of years
Till coils of sex, heat, and anger
Loop around my ankles like snakes.
They entreat me, entice me:
Remember? The memories?
And you flood me, honey and water,
As I am pressed to experience all that you are again
And again, weaving old scenes
Back into place,
Captured, filled, complacent.