Biohazard

The long legs of the law of physics
unravel like a chemical cuff.
Strands of conversation multiply
into equations of noise unfamiliar.
Arms of love encircle scientific concept.
Atoms split, molecules cool.
Genes are always shrinking by design.
Periodically, a table is turned,
revealing an element of surprise.
The soul of explosion is destitute,
always seeking flame.

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I'm a writer living in Massachusetts.