Like the aesthete of Alexandria,
whose muse was the ephemeral,
the brief, ineffable romance,
you will reach for after-images
that float and swirl in trance;
you will find that nothing
resists change, that memory betrays
whatever it once sought to hold or worship
for the lure of chance…
You will sense a thinness in the days
not registered before, as substance
pays its dues to the ephemeral.
I hope, when you awaken to the limitless expanse,
that all we ever shared will be distilled
as in a parting glance…