Breaths and String Theories

The Sphinx got weary
of always being the
mysterious deep one,
so she slumped off
to the nearest pub
and drank herself silly
in the middle of the afternoon
which she knew
her mother wouldn’t approve of
but ah well,
she adheres to no one
and liked it that way.

I drank orange juice
and thought
back to death,
standing in my kitchen
on a Wednesday morning,
raiding my fridge and laughing
as she watched two red birds
squabble over the bird bath.
She saw through
my pathetic attempts
at small talk
but still would not
tell me why she was there,
just kept showing up in my kitchen
eating everything.

And don’t you hate it
when the batteries go out
of a thing
just as you need it,
though it seems to me
every moment
is chaos and light
and every facebook status
was some sort of wild call
of this new morphing man.

sometimes I stare
out the window
and all of a sudden,
with a rush of wind
in my face,
I believe again
that we connect
to each other,
string theory vibrations
bumping into other
string theory vibrations,
resonating together,

making music.

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