Fusion

a single drop falls into my eye,
burning, it provokes three more.

        your hair cascaded over my shoulder,
        the perspective from below gave you age
        (wise and knowing, even as you were known),
        distance, despite our situation.

another drop slides from my brow,
again into my eye, again a prophecy 
of more.

        it was uniquely visceral,
        moist and clinging,
        uniquely heavenly,
        light and distracting.

another sweaty drop,
(do you feel scared
like i do?)
exploding into ten more.

        we didn't speak,
        only sighs 
        and other strange sounds 
        could be heard.

another drop,
through blurred eyes.
i can't recall your face.

        an explosion,
        like sharp words in anger,
        as futile as it was exhausting.

and another.
years away, 
i'll just remember the fear,
and the blood.

©1998 Timothy A. Clark