We don't got much. It may seem like a lot: a heap of membrane garments, things made out of flesh and micropore. But up close, it's all a mishmash of ionic bonds and exchanges. One thing bleeds into another. And further down, it is a twisty mass of quantum entanglements. You, we, everything is a colony of innmumerable cells, many of them not our own per se. You are powered by a critter who lives in each of them and has its own DNA. It came from some proto-mother and winds its matrilinear way toward us. It, and not we, has engineered this world.
We are coincident with our lives, playful fictions that accompany the long waveforms of reality. We have tuned into this program together and not all at once. We dive in and out of holes created by communication. We travel along arterial byways, return along the vascular. It is so very rare when we can come together like the snails I saw on the cube who caress each other with their soft tissues. A present moment of two phantoms in time. I can still recall the feeling of your jawline, your ear beneath my fingers.