the sieve and the sand

if only I could order you into nice, neat little piles and lines
if only I could package you in, wrap you up and call you mine
if only I could rationalize an excuse not to submit
if only I could have enough and just tell you to stop it
if only I could believe that you don’t deserve praise
if only I could say that you don’t require me to change
if only I could comprehend your precision through biology
if only I could articulate your love by way of my study
if only I could pencil you into my hectic schedules
if only I could configure you with electronics and tools
if only I could run diagnostics when you’re slow to respond
if only I could demand that you wave your magic wand
if only I could explain how opposing atom charges hold together
if only I could shed enlightenment on galaxies and dark matter
if only I could fit you into my perfectly organized boxes
if only I could reason you out with formulas and logic
if only you didn’t demand I lay it all on the altar
if then, well, you wouldn’t be God any longer