Fleeting

the world is teardrops turned to stones something in the way you glanced across a crowded terminal and gone in the kaleidescope vortex of freeze frame turned to motion the moment dissipates

you came from Providence but not the one in Rhode Island like Elizabeth's prayers for rain in autmun you came in a whispered wind a swirl and spin listless from the lips of god one instant of perfect time the moment dissipates

and i am officially history and i am a moment too late i am nothing but tedious honesty and lies when we said we would wait

perhaps it's enough, she said just for now time makes perfection dirty and raw like a glance across a crowded terminal and gone in the kaleidescope vortex of freeze frame and Yorick's bones the world is teardrops, turned to stones