You found a quantum oscillation
in the middle of our bed, almost like potential well
s had sprung up in between us. You said they marked the ground with landmines that our word
s could get sucked into.
"A quantum oscillation?!" I cried in disbelief, impatient with your dreaming. I tried to say "That's nothing!" but the walls
of those potential wells were slowly slowly growing.
"Look, that quark
is changing flavor
! You see, it's spreading like a tumor
." You pointed to the increase, and you showed it as a sign. I laid back down to sleep
and said it'd go away with time
So many things I ignored in our bed. I wonder why the smallest of them came back to haunt me.
You crept away in fear
, and backed away from the ever widening gap
. I didn't listen to your pleas, and slept in my idea that fluctuation
s on that scale were meaningless.
Wasn't I surprised to see the vortex that had crept up by the time the dawn had come?
"See? See what uncertainty
can do?" Your words were lost already though, the winds of the swimming particles too loud to let them through. You waved your hands to get my attention, but before I knew, you'd tunneled
from my life.
How did you know something so small as a quantum oscillation could mean the end?
I watched but couldn't catch you.
I realized at one point just how quickly you were slipping, and I made my move to follow but then lost sight of your position
. I almost found you once but in that instant you hit c
. I think I saw you once, just to the right of Mercury, heading toward the sun. But by then it was too late and this infinite potential well
had eaten up our bed
There's nothing left, but I still can't tunnel out.