the rekindlement

then it ended, leaving only memory; fading into a jitter and twitch toward distant twilight obscured, a swarth (imagined) against the darkened moon yet gleaming at the edge of nothing

with the burst and crack of fear
and all silence

with deep gulp of death, immersed in some great fountain, agasp in joy; bedazzled by the
untetherable ache of a full midday beam and cloaked by an immaterial glow, a soul swollen 

unadulterated, naked, vulnerability
Then, singing

togetherness, with no masquerade
life, at last