where we circled clock-
wise (or counter-
clockwise) down
the drain

how much a diamond a little light is!
but softening     then nothing     after it flickers

the curve of the road we become
is as fluid as a few weeks in summer
(in the dark these dwindle to pure sensation -

the memory and all the little pieces of us
like knowledge and self-absorption
a few allowed moments of looking back)

where breath thins and bodies become beautifully hollow

where this journey is a mourn against our stars
no more     our fall slows until finally we drop
in on the next new world
young again     the light hurts our eyes