Come, your theory of everything,
to unpick the manifold stitches;
string, M, Einstein's requiem,
to mine the quantum ditches.
I believe we have dined out before,
in this or some other dimension,
under clinical conditions you probed a cavernous soul,
finding only introspection.
Hither, among the neutrinos,
are a host of quarks and gluons,
and at some discernable point,
only the void can conquer your affections.
You function on certainty and determinism
but I still have my doubts.
Abstraction only leads to reduction;
your leaving me bares this out.
Eyes, mourning jewels in a momentary utopia,
sail bubbles in an indefinite ether,
I climb aboard that mysterious ship of fools
and can affirm the view is better.
Morgan Sweet
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/come-hither-eyes/
