Fairy Floss
spun to its finest skeins
with all the strands of the past
cohering
around a flimsy balsa stick
this soft numb form
is like life’s airy drift
the flimsiest tangle
of DNA
you, me
the taste of becoming
the idea that sex
is about melting
each other
under no one’s tongue
Jennifer Harrison
Photos in collage from: CSIRO CC BY 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0) via Wikimedia Commons