The Totality of Us Remains
the Moon starts to move away from the Sun, the sky begins to lighten, and yet, the memory remains.
Published in
1 min readMay 15, 2024
No longer will I stare,
uncomprehending, at the drywall,
watching our bodies eclipse
and then your shadow
peeling off —
There is more to see
than the brief contact
making a wrung towel of my lungs;
There is more to see than the plaster
clinging to my pillow fibers.
No longer will I press
my palm into your fist-shaped crater,
thumbing the edges
for any secrets you had
left.
You had already excised
The Weakness.
I roll and roll, and still
the totality sears my retinas.
Still, your smolder remains.
No longer will I stare, uncomprehending
of the silence.
There is no need
when our tangential limbs burn a path
even in blindness.
I shadow our path of totality
until the once-in-a-lifetime event
becomes nauseating.
kristina gaffney 2024
