Now that we are strong enough for this desire,
let the fingertips that dragged the city walls
come in like humbled invaders. And let the lights
built up so robotically on the sides of our valley
become like bioluminescence, and be moved to glow
by the passing of a lover's craft.

Our ship of canvas numbers has been turned
into a soft black hole with jellyfish tentacles.
How did the crushing suck become a trailing mess
of ladyfingerslinked by darkmatter, aching
with celestial honeypot? The universe of hardness
punctured itself and threw us out into its sister.

We both stand in the prow and put our black dress-coats on,
me with my chest hair flaring out of a rigid brassiere
and you with a velvet bowtie above your barest nipples.
The multiverse without space for angels
is with us now.