moments of grace falling through every
light beam, they shred through
the clouds, casting their moments in time
as a permanent mark upon my retinas;
me. you. image burned.

brilliance of motion,
this world is a shattering vase.
uncertainty, regret and loss
cut to a shot of the
glass, shattered upon the floor,
the pieces of caught in our hands,
as we are blinded by
moments of grace, falling
through every light beam—

the glass shreds through the
clouds, casting their moments in time
as a permanent mark upon my skin,
just as my blood stains the floor,
this impression has stained me.

12/07/2004

Posted on 12/07/2004
Copyright © 2025 Andrew S Adams