That Time I Ruined My Valentine

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.)

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.