— Pour Ma Jolie Copine.
It’s said
a collision
between
membranes in a multiverse
gave birth
amid
orgasmic destruction
to all
that we can know.
How often
did those
universes
pass unseen —
a vague
unknown
feeling in
the nothing before
contact?
Can love
be a matter
merely of
timing?
Had
Heathcliff and Cathy
met in
their thirties
could they
have saved
everybody
the bother?
Could
Cathy have lived?
Heathcliff
would always have been
lost.
Had his
love been
stronger
than pride
might he
have given her more
than a
mansion of memory and
dust?
Universes
loom
from dark
matter between realms.
Outside
time a flash
could be a
moment or eternity;
a new
world
beautiful,
complete,
known only
to its inhabitants
exists for
an instant
forever
blinked
out of being
by the
sad, cruel logic of reality.
Love
exists without time.
Time
engenders destruction.
Perfect
love destroys perfectly.
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