impending light (2012)

She sees him and the world falls around her and melts at his feet. He doesn't notice; he wades through it, through the muddled chaos that soaks his shoes, through the cold, black water that she would've drowned in. It isn't until he reaches her that the blackness disappears, evaporates suddenly as if it fears the impending light. And then it's gone, all of it's gone, and it is not missed. There is not a single instant that either of them would offer to the absent world, no touch nor smell nor whispered word that they care to let go of for long enough to surrender it to the abyss. If there were light in place of the dark, they still should not see, for they are blinded by their very state and would gladly forsake their eyes indefinitely if they could only recapture this moment once more. Once more, and again, and another; they linger in each splendid second for longer than it seems they should. They are stealing these blessed moments and they know it, and this awareness costs them only their very selves - that which they have willingly given up already.