Size / / /

I meant to write a poem for your wedding

about superfluids. About quantized groupings

whose singular momentum pushes up and over containers -

about transmission of heat, creation of vortices,

the creation of h/m proportions of vortices

where h is plank's constant -

a spun bucket that holds a dozen whirlpools.

I meant to write that you were aligned together

in the same quantum state,

and could not be contained. I meant to write

a poem of matter, of transition points -

of energy that transforms liquid to gas -

of boiling water at a steady temperature

as molecules leap into vapor.

They don't use the term latent heat anymore.

I can't use it to say you've changed states.

It was a long time building, only seeming

the same, like boiling water, as you transformed

into something that rises.




Romie Stott is the administrative editor and a poetry editor of Strange Horizons. Her poems have appeared in inkscrawl, Dreams & Nightmares, Polu Texni, On Spec, The Deadlands, and Liminality, but she is better known for her essays in The Toast and Atlas Obscura, and a microfiction project called postorbital. As a filmmaker, she has been a guest artist of the National Gallery (London), the Institute of Contemporary Art (Boston), and the Dallas Museum of Art. You can find her fairly complete bibliography here.
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15 Apr 2024

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