Micropoetry Monday: Random Acts

He found himself puzzled by the lovely dissectologist—
enamored by her ability to not have to see the big picture
to put it all together.
When she broke his heart into 2000 pieces,
only to put him back together
as well as she had found him,
he realized that she was far better
than the cruciverbalist,
who didn’t know whether
she was going up & down or side by side,
& who just didn’t have a clue.


They did not exist because of her,
but she would not exist without them—
without the stars that had aligned
into the consummate constellation.
The occurrence
of this recombination without replication
was noted in the heavens
as April 21, 2020,
at the 37th second
of the 12th minute
of the 11th hour,
between 1 man & 1 woman—
gray matter & white matter,
yang & yin,
co-conspirators of a big bang.
The man & woman orbited their collaboration
like watchful deities,
for Stella was,
to them,
in theory,
a biology experiment
from 2 chemistry major leaguers
who had given it the old college try,
an experiment that,
in reality,
had made someone extraordinary happen.

Mila the Younger
was her sister’s keeper—
needed neither for organs nor marrow,
but for her whole person—
for her understanding of the world
& of the sister
who was not a rain man
with her head in the clouds,
but the sunlight that poured through stained glass
& tied rainbows from the ribbons of rainwater
that ran down the windowpanes.
Mila’s sister,
who colored the Younger’s life in myriad ways,
often found herself in the presence of strangers
& the absence of friends,
with the memories of the parents
who had helped her see the others—
the others who had helped her see herself.

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