you're standing right here,
and I can't see you. Your face
so beautiful, traced with mind's eye
from a thousand and more goings over
of times when you stood
Right here.
I could reach out and touch almost.
Now you're here,
all the background shines
so much,
from a host of foundations and frames
we've sketched in so deep,
the perspective recedes in traceries thick,
constellations of stars we've each placed, and named
, and hung
so much light, years off now -
it is still coming in
on us. What
comes next?
I will stand here, so fully and over
exposed, while you
stand here drowning
in halo effects, and your face
your beautiful face -
I can't see
for the light
coming off what we used
to be.
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