I don’t believe in soulmates, just chaos theory

I believe in collisions, erratic
crashing together. Splice split
of atoms, deep degradation of
DNA, those tender helix hugs
over sex & fate. How the milli
-seconds of meeting at bars, silly
drunk parties, at supermarkets,
at Midwest farms of immigrants
led you to me & I to this hypo-
thetical theory of love. Oh
the generations of mistakes,
the astronomical heartache
called mortality. How I crave
this lush deity to softly trace

my lips and drink the stardust
out of me, so cosmic combust
into a supernova. My soul so
lunar sand, we can spread, oh
breathe & shape another system
saying: no, I don’t, or yes, I can
arrive two minutes too late
or show up on the wrong date.
Perfectly unpunctual the butter-
fly affect just beyond the flutter
wreckage of the celestial crust
where I meet you in the endless
lives I keep living as we thrust
toward the Big Crunch mess.