A gun, a mouth,
a hot farewell.
A moment on the lips
and then,
the long missing begins.
After it’s done — in
less than a split
of a second of noting
the start of the roar of
the gun —
after it’s done
is there anything? Regret,
joy? Release, terror, a welcome
blankness?
Insatiable curiosity
is not enough to take me
there and fear is barely enough
to keep me here. I tug
and am tugged but I am
going to wait.
Dark Matter 