Final Stanza

and though we danced too short a day, calling sunsets for a last foray into the breathing, forgotten lore past the bolted, stuck-shut door through the rotting, dripping timber underneath the arms so limber they allow the sky to hold the earth despite the distance and his girth spinning faster, faster yet now light, now dark, now dry and wet we face extinction and don’t care we’re busy gasping for simple air who can keep up with Geb and Nut? not you or I. our threads are cut our heartsbreath weighed, our measure taken read fast and we may yet awaken in sunless lands for a first foray where we will dance so long a day.