Porous Romance, love through degrees of obliteration

You move through the grain of closed eyes, calling through the undergrowth of my body.

Image credit: Jake Starr

Swaddled in the down of sheep, a cocoon, I become larval,

racked by spasmodic kneading and hypnic jerks.

Cellular rebellion, a riot through the synapses, a dream of you.

My reptilian brain gnaws on the echoes of your voice.

You move through the grain of closed eyes,

calling through the undergrowth of my body.

The soil of flesh replies,

pulsates with a chorus 10 trillion strong.

Bacteria, archaea, fungi, protists and viruses

stir from subdermal rest,

migrate through plasma to the surface of myself.

Push against the boundary between I and everything,

where skin flora blooms a cloud of spores.

Picked up in gusts of docile breath,

I post portions of my body to you

along an ocean breeze.

I reach you, powdered in a dust of pollen.

Respiratory cycles pull me inside of you,

plucking me as a berry

from the cold air above your face.

Through inhalation and exhalation,

we settle into one another

like sedimentary rock.

I coat the roof of your mouth,

catching on webs of saliva and mucus.

I am obliterated, granulated,

between your canines and molars.

I am diffused into blood,

through the delicate lining of your lungs.

In a hypertensive communion.

We coarse through each other.

A chimera.