there is a swelling shadow, formlessly
moving behind my lover’s light;
self-sustaining, feeding of itself,
its ever-changing shape i cannot bear to see.
moving stills of sound and light are spilling through
the projector of my mind; playing like the first time,
i am no less unprepared;
and a darkness undresses me of everything.
don’t bend my eyes to that horizon –
rather let me fill with meaning every corner of the sky;
eyes which may be born of believing
i could not be needed so much by anyone.
the picture whole is seldom seen
and far less understood.
i’ll see only fragmentary parts
and fill the sp-ces as the dark deems right.
turn me away from that horizon –
there is no too great a distance i will not stretch my eyes –
before the shadow is perfected
by the last time;
and the last time.