You drop your robe, slip next to me in bed,
our vulnerable nakedness secure
in covering each other. Bodies wed
to psyche. My sight dives deep within your
skin, and suddenly I swim through cosmos
of your cells, float within your eternal
harmony, vast organelles apropos
to our universe—swirling internal
galaxies of lysosomes, centrosomes,
and microtubules like supernovas
flaming with expanding light. Now it comes
to me why priests claim how God always was.
How I’ve always known we exist as one
with each and all. Why we eclipse the sun.
Roger Armbrust
February 19, 2010
