The Scientist Dream

What is love?

I ask the beautiful scientist

and she answers

that it is only a physiological symptom. . . .

she shows me her symptoms

and I show her mine

and we play roulette

as the numbers go around 

and the stars fall from the sky



When I ask her to save me,

she looks away

there are limits, she says

procedures

ethics


I beg her to save me

and she refuses me again

saying

‘we cannot save you from your desire

anymore than we can save you from

your aspirations.

these are the most intractable of all

the  meta-diseases.”



So I kiss her and tell her

that she will be my savior

that I only need

her assurance 

that she will do what she can



Then I nuzzle her vaguely

antiseptic breasts

as she lies down beside me

with a long steel needle

and we sleep 

in a dream

of infinite revision



 

 

— David Hickman