Sex for Chemists by ABMann

From our shells we reach out.
Between us, a dense fog of uncertain
Relations. We connect, our hands brushing
with electric intent and release
light into each other. We draw in
with the ever collapsing
orbits of our interlocked limbs.
Until spent, in the dark, we are heaped
in space. Stability and silence found
in a degenerate bond.