The night you slip and hum her name
into my ear, I shall become light–
as wave reinventing myself in every warped
windowpane of your room; as particle
I will snarl your hair, tangle your bedclothes,
bind your lover in a knot of shadow and make
her watch me vibrate every atom in your blood,
sing hallelujah in the cavern of your chest.
Planck taught us that the body gives off heat
not as continuum but in discrete
quantum leaps determined by his constant, v.
But love obeys a different law; the heart
belongs to the sea–erasing your footprints as it ebbs
just to kiss them back when it tumbles toward your shore.