Here is a short poem about a relationship coming apart, told through the language of medicine and chemistry. The opening image pairs two "apothecaries," people who prepare remedies, and says the chemistry between them is "charged." It's a pun: the word means both scientific reaction and romantic tension, and the charge could be attraction or danger. Two people trained to heal are now unsure they can heal each other.
Then the poem admits that words may not help. Language, it suggests, "might not be a physician," so talking things through may fail. The couple can't agree about the heart, whether to "part with it or not," which can mean giving it away or letting it go.
The ending is quiet and physical. The speaker cuts off their hair "as everything that is over," a small ritual of closing a chapter. The mood is restrained, a little clinical, and sad. Nobody shouts, and the loss comes through in one plain act.