the science of love

1

I wish I could write
sonnets
about you
filled with
perfect, rhythmic
syllables,
unlike my heartbeat.

I wish I could quote
the most romantic of poets
who weaved and breathed
love
and bring them all
back from the dead
so they could write one
that is worthy
of you.

I wish could write prose
that would make
even Jane Austen swoon
and wish she were you
and I would cement myself
in your heart with
my lyrical language.

Instead I tell you
the first time we met
It felt like
I'd touched raw sodium
and every time after that
oxytocin would draw hearts
on my fingers,
my heart shaking
like an excited electron
and I would wonder if
our bond was purely ionic?
(but aren't all ionic bonds a little covalent too?)

I tell you how
you'd always smell like
the first ester I brewed
how I memorised
all your favorite shirts with
the Lassaigne's precipitates
scared because I was an electron
attracted to a proton
if we touch
will we end up
destroying each other?

(did I tell you
that sometimes
I would wonder if Heisenberg
wrote his rule of uncertainty for us?)

I tell you that
you are my Antimatter
colliding and destroying
everything that I thought mattered
everything left
of that broken heart
till we were both
completely annihilated
and our energies fused
as
One.

years
and
years
and years later,
I ask if you knew
what I meant that day.
you laugh and say
'I was
lost in translation
but I knew the
language of love.'