fit

FIT

like a scientist, his long white coat hung
from bony shoulders to the floor,
explains, "the molecule locks
into the brain cell, its unique key
is the only shape that will fit."

in sleep, beneath the blanket
of night, your knees pressed behind
mine, belly-curve cupping my butt,
we lay, locked, like 2 spoons in
the silverware tray, a perfect fit.

when i first found your smile, i saw
sunlight shining between our lips,
and coming closer, i could see
that the curve of your chin
was made to fit, puzzling pieces snapping into place...

...cycles synchronize; breaths
    learn to walk hand-in-hand..
    thoughts bubble-up, breaking
    the surface in synchronized dances


cows, in spring, reclaim the very
same (overgrown) path to the pond;
electric currents (sacred human thoughts) run
through the very groove of grey cerebelum
as always, the circuit board of childhood is perfectly hard-wired

we sit before the video-gate, sharing a piece
of modern (media) art we ingest dancing images
of light, a shared meal, each digesting from the one dish,
the tones and echoes of our lives' tattoos (for surely, we are
scarred and decorated with our own tales), musically intertwined.

and on some galactic cue, our mouths open, in-synch,
and breaths, pushed-up and through two individual
voice boxes, produce identical thoughts.....

that fit.