The Uncertainty Principle

alcoholicpoet.com

this poem is about the evolution of intimacy.


time comes in cuts and bruises. the stale anthropology of why. we swerve. untethered projectiles. 

the atoms tally their electrons. the random arithmetic of dubious accountants.

we turn on a fickle axis. orbiting distant and indifferent stars.

time draws its pictures. a desolate artist. a callous muse.

we bite the wind. starved for conflict.

our words slither quietly through choice's tall grass. as flesh collides. 

the geometry presses against our skin. the weight of time blurs our edges.

we touch. in stutters and stabs. all wrong answers. to a series of questions yet to be asked. 

Filed under: Sad Poetry October 2024