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