A simple device can hold such complexity.
A pair of rings, complete with delicate sensors
to monitor his heartbeat, to replicate
that pulse in her ring; and likewise.
Now, how lovers may never need feel alone,
for always the pulse of their other
is throbbing, gently stirring,
around their fingertips.
Picture the faint twinge felt
when walking along the streets at night
her eyes catch another’s and-
Ba-bum-ba-bum, a fleeting flurry
some unwitting evidence of
something primal and unneeded.
He notices; how could he not?
And later when they are parted
And that stirring arises, extended,
what must he wonder? What
euphoric exertions is she committing?
How could she throw this all away?
And she wonders why her ring is
thumping along, rhythmic as
a flat on the highway.
Gentle ideas always lead to violence
and grief; and how easily
do our senses deceive. So too
do our extended senses;
our electronics report without understanding
And so we conclude without ever knowing.
When she steps through the doorway,
gym-tote slung behind her back,
there are no words she can spit
faster than the glob of lead.
And the ring’s pulse quickens, dithers,
and ceases. Proof of life to
proof of death,
all in a whisper’s width.
