I’m at the Plaza. The place he proclaimed visitation with like an accomplishment: “i went to the Plaza”. The same intonation he has when he looks at me and says “my daughter”. Gloria Jeans and raisin toast make me feel like they are with me. Dad and Bill. Matching bonnets. Slightly different accents. Arguing about …
Your hand outstretched against my breast as we brake too fast:
My fist clenches just the way you hate it-
As I stare at the approaching distance.
‘Don’t do that’ you ask, so my grasp loosens.
I shift gaze and lean into you as best I can,
To tell you about gluons mediating forces between quarks.
You let me tell you that these gluons are inside you, inside me…
The fabric of the multiverses:
I tell you this will be the answer to everything,
Everything, I emphasise against your doubting,
Life, death, and every being.
I wonder how it explains love,
As you ‘Sydney’ park outside of Aldi,
And as we stack bags into the boot,
I brush my hand against your little finger,
And I still think you might hate me,
As I undertake to trust you soon.
But soon has now been decades coming,
And I keep trying agains the odds.
So now with this soft touch of your finger,
As it lingers still I reckon I feel
The exchange of a very strong force:
Love gluons between quarks,
Between you and me,
In an Aldi car park.