I first was black ink
In slow Brownian motion. Then out!
To insinuate and dry among the tiny threads of paper.
For a while I was the Buddha, moving through a new darkness
Of silicon and copper, turning and turning on a magnetic disc
When would I ever meet you? When would you look at me?
Look at me. Am I anything without you?
As I fly, tiny photons, writhing through the air
To light the nerves in your eyes
I wonder, will you love me
As the paper did, embracing me
Deep within itself?
I thought I'd never leave.
But it's you I want to be with,
To ride the circuit of your red currents,
To induce specific chemicals to ride with me,
To spark the lonely space between those neurons
Which remember the milky texture of a breast
And the circular rhythm that moved warmth
Through it and into you.

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...