I shatter
like a crisp of ice,
flash-frozen pond top
with
your slightest move,
Glance this way, turn that way,
focus
in some other direction
(Not a stomp, nor a monstrous roar, it takes
so very much less than that.)
so very much less than that.)
We, like water, are a polar molecule
Covalent bonds, positive and negative charges
Filling the years with an atomic dance toward and away from each other
And I, a weaker element alone, seek strength in
that union
Growing to be more than myself,
Depending on the core of an unbreakable chain
Forgetting to acknowledge, forgetting to embrace,
forgetting the steps of the dance.
Will we dance that liquid dance again, moving
this way and that?
Will we move mightily together, a solid that
steers in one direction?
Will we steam, then scatter, nebulous as a gas?
The essence of the form will change, no doubt.
Melting, or heating, or freezing—the bonds will not be
denied.
I am weaker alone.
I shatter at the flicker of a thought of that
existence.
Shatter me, though, if you will.
I am weaker, but not weak.
I will flicker and float my way through the
universe.
Or, better yet,
dance with me.
The glacial buildup will be neither rapid nor trouble-free.
Cracks are to be smoothed over.
Paths will be carved.
Electron crashing may no longer be as volatile.
Still this is where I wish to be.
Part of a molecule, singular in strength, one and only,
with you.
