I revel in the in between, the moments
that cling to my swiftly failing memory
like a sock from the dryer that refuses to unhand
my shirt — something electric to embrace
the shocking windfall overtaking me.
I feel fortune’s stroke in this,
a lamp post spotlighting those moments —
unforgettable dots on a map
they blur past scurrying to the flashier dots,
leaving the in between her to us.
Even now clouds dare to obscure
the light, hoping to extinguish the glow
that naturally bounces from your cheeks
like effervescent flecks of confidence
congealing around those lips
refusing, though shaded, to frown.
Don’t ever let me lose your light
or dissolve into absence, obfuscated
in shadows mimicking reality on
lightless caves where I’m left with
memories of brilliant visions
glistening with hope of another sun.
We must remember as we bravely parachute
to our final landing place to make the most
of all the lasts – a last meal to energize
our breaking body, last words to inspire
those not jumping though clouds, last visits
with passing specters sharing last goodbyes.
A death bed is just one last stage, one final
curtain call before an audience left wanting
more, grasping at minutes as they dissolve
between clapping fingers. Where does
the time go? Where does anything?
Winds blow in without warning
and dissipate just as quickly. Change
can revitalize whatever breezes
haven’t swept farther down the road.
Our end is an end, one of millions every
day that taste salty on pursed lips
aching under the weight of uncertainty.
I will not waste mine. With my last
dying kiss, I’ll noiselessly thank you
They found forever among the Froot Loops,
halfway between Frosted Flakes
and immortality in that special place
under the lasting look of a toucan and tiger
eyeing whatever future spills
in colorful milk poured before them.
When they once again crossed carts
in the frozen aisle of Eggos
and perpetual loneliness, they let go
of forever – it now tasted stale,
iced over and bland. No amount of salt
and preservatives could save them.