when the atoms speak to each other
they talk of distances. holding hands
they whisper a story about stolen acorns 
& the recluse sugar we wanted to eat.
i am touched by a long stick from the yard.
bamboo grows in my living room like television.
once an ad told me "i guarantee" & i thought
"i have never been so certain."
seeing the atom like a ripe cherry
i tried to bite down hard. my tongue
is an ugly worm of need. my father's atoms
are drunk & floating in amber. looking up
at an old over-used sky. i take mine
down to the laundry mat to clear them up.
fresh smell of "alright alright." watching
the little spheres tumble in a machine.
i take my composition to the playground later
to research childhood. did i have one?
is it too late? sipping a pine tree.
sticky cones for dolls. the atoms are saying 
"nevermind" & they are letting go. 
i am troubled deeply by this. i take everything 
as an omen because it is. a dead bird is always
a sign of a car crash or a broken heart.
you were the one who told me that sometimes
atoms link up together. hold tight. 
talk & talk for hours. for every scientist 
there is a lover painted on a shower curtain.
i tell my atoms to kiss again. 
spend all night at the cutting board
trying to slice on in half. i don't want
destruction i just want to see inside.
but maybe inspection is a form of desctruction.
my atoms are all pink. well, not all.
one is lavender & one is bruise-blue.
here let me show you them. no microscope needed.
plug your ears & your eyes. 
yes, there they are.

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