U and Eye

In the beginning, we were one and no one,
a scathing sea of quarks

angrily rushing through each other,
jockeying for position

before the coming of the bright suns
and the chill they carried in their wake.

My electron fingers
flowed through your neutrino hair,

your skull still so distant
it seemed as though I would never touch it.

We were drawn by the stars then,
compacted, metamorphosed into metals,

shot out of our fiery womb by a retching supernova,
spilled into the frigid emptiness of space,

then rained upon the hungry earth,
you soft and pliant,

your water breasts snuggled against my drying coast,
your river hair flowing over me and around me,

until the ur-Mars stranger
knocked you into the sky,

where I reach for you still, longing to kiss
your dark mare eyes,

to bask in your monthly light of silver,
but you are no longer mine, even though we will wed

when our red giant mother
devours us once again,

then decays to merge
with the evaporating fermion soup.

We will flow through each other then, our frigid particles
separated by mere light years,

until we disappear once more
into the fire.