In the dark of the planetarium
I think about the rings of Saturn
and realize that when we lay together
I fit against the curve of your back
the way the third and fourth rings fit
close but with a space in which
Einstein might have talked of love
as the transition of flesh into energy
or perhaps he meant the other way
because love for us is the oscillation
the transition from the fire of passion
to the feel of the earth when freshly tilled
between the melting of touch and sound
into a glowing orange heat
and the mundane placing of a picture
just above the living room couch
all of which is much more confusing
than Einstein’s simple formulation
© 2014 Frank Kearns
So Cal Yankee 