It is an unending moment.
It is light.
She came and dwelt among us for awhile.
And suffusing all the dream.
Surely it will end.
Surely I will end it.
Everything is brighter,
Everything is clearer.
So many plans,
So many thoughts,
So many possibilities.
Now I know what perfection is.
Not the presence of full good,
but the becoming of something greater.
This is the comfort of knowing home.
It is not home, she says.
And the record plays back
with demonic whisperings.
In the shadows you saw us dancing.
Shadows looming as specters.
Once innocence thought
is now filled with every recrimination and regret.
I have succeeded beyond my wildest dreams.
And so they end.
So the dance stops, broken.
And there are only memories.
Then why do you keep talking to me?
Why are we still deep in conversation?
I heard your voice, just an hour ago, and we laughed,
about some not forgotten event.