The dayen route to darkness. The guillotineon the way to the neck.

I was there, where the pale words, like light on a wave.Where the forgotten music was still played.The lovers, gone. Their beds unmade.

They were all around us that day. In the confusion of air. In our strange dreams. In the baggage we'd brought with us and would have to leave. In our fading animal memories:The humming gold of being, and ceasing to be. The exposed motor of eternity.