When a photon

decays, small orb

of light falters, frac-

tures, each fragment remains

separate, but bound

by arithmetic to echo

each the other’s

motion, spiral

and speed in symmetry

like mirror moons

both saying if

you turn to leave

I will turn the other way,

feel your rising and fall,

a heave of your

breast. A heaviness

against my breath

would wake me, even

at the edge

of black oceans, we’d balance,

certain of one another’s

state, eternally or ‘til

a force from outside intervenes.