you don’t need me to lecture you about the nature of moments,
but I am drunk, so still, I will.
eyelash width: insubstantial;
eyelash grip: affixed, then adrift–
ok, eyelash.
full metaphor.
full stop.
there on your fingertip for a breath,
then discard haphazardly,
whisper wishes.
later,
you cannot regard the thing any longer.
you can barely recall the thing.
you can only with wist and wine evoke
the memory of the wish of the thing,
but now, it is fixed
in space and time,
and you are falling.
Evening Dusk 