Hilltop Haze

A gap in the fence
where someone slipped through.

my spirit rose
in the hilltop haze—
for ease,
not yet.

I almost didn’t go.
the night already spoken for.
I stayed near the back
long enough
to watch myself fade.

electronic sound, sustained vibration—
music that asks you
to stay inside it.

I stand still.
I still see us—
just less distinctly.
a photograph breathing.

and then,
a fluid hand.

Not reaching.
Not needing to.

outside,
in spite of everything,
the air
turns cold.