Our relationship, I thought,
would be like the Universe,
stable, long-lasting, energizing
each other with accumulations of knowledge.
And so it seemed, for a while, as we,
like systems of a similar nature and magnitude
rotated, absorbing
radiation, reinforcing one another at every conceivable wave-length.
It was as though no imaginable tomorrows
could interfere with our mutual estimations.
But theories of the Universe change,
vary, it would appear, as in the world of fashion,
wherein that which had been uniform
becomes expressive of endless variability.
Yesterday’s “normal” will be tomorrow’s “anathema”.
Bouncing genes bounce, they say, from one chromosome
to another, altering characteristics
to which we’ve been accustomed.
It is as if a gas, once contained, is suddenly frivolous in its freedom.
Better that, I was thinking, than contraction, than diminution,
that though such diversity may be daunting,
an apartness as separate as the spiral limbs of a galaxy,
the gravitational pulls of feeling, of mutual need,
would overcome these centrifugal forces,
bringing us, eventually, to that state
of unity wherein we had commenced our journey.