Hadron
       

I marry you among quarks, our marriage just another
quark. All quarks are our marriage and reside

happily in Switzerland. In Switzerland,
your protons beam at me, often colliding with my own

to project our origin story onto heavy cloud cover
through which lightning flashes dramatically.

Fractal and occult, our marriage ceremony is radiant,
pulses color along a spectrum. My gown

is an assemblage of white lab coats cut to resemble
a Vera Wang but only at a distance

of indeterminate light years. Unwrecked,

our marriage barrels 24/7 through a massive tunnel
into which someone once dropped a half sandwich.

We shut down for days.

In the dark beyond our dark I heard a barred owl
call my name and nearly packed a suitcase.

Couldn't stand the quiet.

Our dreams are simultaneous and recombinant, full
of shambling animals extinct in our lifetime.

They emerge in half-light, move slowly toward us
and bleat, no matter

the species. In marriage, the speed at which we meet
our end is the thing—a falling

away of matter, an eternal state of high remove—
accelerated recognition that we were

smashing.

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Copyright © 2021 Jane Craven All rights reserved
from My Bright Last Country
Cloudbank Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission