With every step

she can feel herself scintillate,

a dead star on rewind,

a black hole puckering back

to newborn radiance.

 

She can feel creases

re-form on elbows,

the circles within circles

of her fingerprints,

hands longing to touch

but not yet; she dares not breathe.

 

As the wink of day grows close

she feels him tremble

and can do nothing,

knows then his wan face,

the dimmed lights of his eyes.