No Horizons

Five long years.

A static perimeter engulfed the sky

And I think a sixth one could be deadly.

I am comprised of worlds

Yet nothing seemed so small

As my own printed hand.

We don’t drift apart unsung,

We are pushed away by something dark

And we do not go gently into anything at all.

Conviction in the dying power of your city.

Two dim-moon eyes stay fixed

On two worlds unjarred, coinciding.

And all I hear is one single booming voice

Declaring, “Now.”

Is it more than we bring to bear

In these tactless benedictions?

I want to know if you doubt the way I doubt.

I want to know if you lie the way I lie.

Coinciding.