Sitting with Gödel in My Refrigerator

I need your atoms
to stare inside me
once again,

a trillion eyeballs
carving designs
in my pale skin.

Will you taste music
with me
from the same spoon?

Will you sketch
your waist
in charcoal
in my book of poems?

Will you surrender
all your seconds
and fly with me

to a place
still as space
atomless void
where even sighs
don’t break

the silence