It is not much —
a shoelace’s distance
in fascination; no distance at all,
really.
It is not enough to stave off
the deep funk of second sight, of wondering
how much it will take to enter the room,
close the door, fall into the black mist of
whatever comes next…frankly
to die…
but the cat sleeps by the window
and doesn’t stir at all as I pet her.
Dark Matter 