Let me stand in this light rain,
iridescent and not very present.
I’ll be made of pixels, and one day
you’ll pull my words from the ruin,
and the isotopes from my hair.
You’ll be in awe of such intensity
and its brevity. I’ll evade capture
by your glass jars. I’ll be a mirage
for the spectators, waning, breaking.
For now we can pretend this isn’t finite.
All is slightly unsettled. The trees drip.
It’s alright. Let me have this moment
to incandesce, feel something powerful.
You know that potent silence pleases me.