Otherwise, I had a quiet night at home.

Otherwise, I had a quiet night at home.

Was it all a dream

The cut and thrust of it

The love and lust of it

Every moment of pleasure

Impregnated with the pain

Of impending loss

As fine sand falls

There is no standing still,

Time does not freeze

There is no letting go,

Moments become a lifetime

Passages of introspection

Degrees of insight

Trapped in the corners

As waves of inertia

Threaten indolence

Nightmares of forgotten faces

Preserved in wax

More dangerous for their impact

On perspective

Nothing becomes lucidity

More than the fear of reality,

Shredded by clarity.

When the enormity of loss

Is greater than the sum

Of the remaining

Moving parts,

The dream is over

Sooner than it began,

Anxiety in attachment

Easily broken

By the mordant bell,

The toll of release

Weighed heavily against

The living

The cut and thrust of it

The love and lust of it

Nothing but a dream