In theory

Susan C. Waters
Featured image: Near but far  © A. Anupama 2019

In a parallel universe
we would be fine.
Yes, my music would suffer
with a dominant left hand
but your quick anger
would be anointing tenderness
and my furious tantrums,
sweet submission,
seductive as sleep
and all else that cradles us.

Then again, the twinges I feel
–shadows in the dark woods—
would not be stirring
like a hibernating animal
in its slow ascent toward spring.
Instead, I would be nearing blind hate,
used to the cold asleep.

No, I would be crossing
the Einstein-Rosem Bridge,
the universe’s black hole,
that journeys to the other
version of you, of me.

Or, if I could not find that bridge,
lost in the birthplace of comets
or drawn in by dark stars,
I would tear the fabric of space,
with both hands to reach you.