Evangeline's Heart


A Conversation between a Poet and a Scientist 

She says: That moon tonight speaks all the words I’d ever want to write. 

He says: The eclipse is over. It was penumbral, so there was no good darkening. 


The start of something

It was a night as black as the oil pumped from the frozen ground
of that busted town. She wore a red dress. 

Their first glance was one of knowing. Knowing
this was the start of something.

His two hands found her two hands. He fell for them, out loud. 
He fell for the blood running through them. 

He loved her hands, wildly. 
Like somehow, he was a man who had loved her hands before. 

The flower moon of May 

You fight me hard in the real world. 

But under the moon, in my room

You become me, I become you. 

The fight is lost. 


At the start, he broke in and robbed her of her whole heart. 

But she took it back, piece by painstaking piece 

Until it belonged to her again, and he had no part

Okay fuck this.

I fell I love with a man, so undeserving.

And no regrets. 

The difference between science and poetry

His intelligence is cold, a vast ice field. 

Her intelligence is not a collection of facts. It is not just what the eye sees. 

It is not knowledge. It is knowing. 

The Great Experiment 

The hypothesis: Me, so full of love, can conquer you, so full of hate. 

No Winners 

She was just a little girl who wanted to change the world with words.

The song in her heart waited until she was ready to sing out loud.


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