My pop’s seed, my mom’s feed
to deliver the nurse agreed

‘Twas my trinity to struggle with three

My first love so beautiful
as you cleaned the door
to have a closer glimpse I sat on the floor
you dared me to touch you I was scared
but you wanted me to,

the second one was a slithering snake
my nymph like danseuse
you winked and did sigh, wondered
why I always gazed into your eye

There, I felt the essence of our true love,
feelings akin to super glues holdings.
Drifting thoughts, flowing across a table,
seeking the perfection, held in each other.

The eyes holding, shining truth, then loving,
each moment etched in gold, entwining souls.
Where have you come from? I thought, seeking more.
A lifetime of dreams rendered to my needs.

Nothing existed beyond this one moment,
held above morality and revered.
I was just a being, and there you were,
nothing was good enough to describe you.

It all began in the chemistry class
seated on benches in columns and rows
like elements in Mendeleev's periodic table
each of us with unique numbers and properties
mass, weight, affinity....

I glanced around, zeroing on you
slim, vibrant, magnetic, charming demeanor
when our eyes met I sensed an instant affinity
that's when the latent youthful energy
translated into a kinetic drive

Solemn is the word M a r r i a g e, whole, united, and sacred is its world.

There are days where I feel
like everything to you,
and that's part of your charm
I suppose.

Then there are mornings,
most now, actually,
when everything feels like this.

Today I'll be your leftover
your second place.
And that's nowhere for a person to be.

My wife,
just yesterday you were my wife,
and I
your husband.

I have to remind myself
that I am like a starfish

not just because
I am sensitive
to touch

but because
I can give a limb
as a defense
if I must

it might not grow back
symmetrically
like the echinoderms

(I might be called
a scar fish
instead of a starfish)

but I will regenerate

and show
that humans
though victims
at times
of tragedy and turmoil

have a history
an ocean-sized history
of healing

It's as if tons and tons of matter
are thrown upon the airy core,
until they are crushed by gravity,
and packed more solid than lead:

My weak heart does try to lift up,
sail a wind above time's domain
but the scientific wonders sparkle
and I fall back to the virtual lane.

But what does it matter, anyway,
when time even ends the universe.
What does it matter anyway, when
you live and then you are no more.