my lover and i sat in a giant space rat by Veda Villiers
46 lines
Issue 6 (Fall 2024)
Do you think the cells in our body tell each other they're beautiful, just the way they are?
Or do they, too,
adorn themselves—
coating their surfaces in lipid layers,
a touch of protein here,
hint of carbohydrates there.
Do they converse like you and i,
under the curve of their red vein skies,
whispering across the synapse seas
secrets in signals and pulses
reminding
to keep growing, multiplying—
navigating their silent impulses.
Do they dream of connection,
of linking with others,
forming tissues and organs,
to become something greater
than they could ever be alone.
Do they know that they are a part
of something vast,
their dances and divisions
mirroring
the movements of stars—
collapsing in,
the birth of neutron hearts, in distant galaxies.
Perhaps you and i are cells in a greater body
connecting to form the lifeblood of Earth.
Each a vital thread in this living web,
while Earth itself pulses, a single cell
within the spiral arm of our galaxy.
And who's to say that our universe
isn't just a spark,
a flicker of thought, in the brain of a creature
we could never comprehend—
or perhaps a rodent, scurrying
through a cosmic bin,
unaware that it carries all that we are,
all that we know,
within its delicate head.
Connections upon connections,
a fractal of life,
each cell, each star,
each universe, intertwined,
beautiful, just as they are
each a part of a grander design.
like my lover and i.