by Kim Thompson
When eyes at last behold the close of Time,
As Time absolves the moments once controlled
And meadows mix with chasms; magma, lime
And granite ebb and flow with seas of gold
And red. Then will I come to you and see,
Amidst disrupted stones and beds unmanned,
That I am found in you. And you in me
Will find the mirrored eye and tracing hand
That perfectly unites with mine, to make
One whole of what was incomplete alone.
And I can see eternity, a lake
Around our island: one transparent stone
That bears a name, which voiced, eliminates
Both You and I as time disintegrates.
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