Light travels lifetimes in thirty-five months,
Past planets, into icy wastes with what’s left of you,
Dispersing and diminishing,
Intensity emasculated by time and distance.
Doomed bodies dance, groping in the darkness,
Dimly lit by a sun as distant and cold as you,
Unfeeling and beyond caring.
Desire dies, withered by absence and loss.
If I could return to that sun now thirty-five months away,
Would it be as I remember? No.
Wishing and dreaming
Never turned time’s arrow.
Light travels lifetimes in thirty-five months,
Beyond hope, into empty acceptance, where I am with you.
Loss and pain
Diminished into dull, grinding sadness.
