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time indefinite | nightstars fallen

Time does not end.
The indefinite future is predetermined - and me, no Calvinist, yet...
There is no way to rewind to this or that moment –
The X – Variable where I am sure I did it all wrong
only to get to the Y because I do not understand.
I have turned this over & over –
I get your femme perdu entre notre deux,
ainsi, what about me –
promises made beneath a robin’s-egg blue dome sky
gently painted dot-to-dot constellations,
the great high pained arched windows
that cast their summer’s early evening net of long shadows
and in a whispering wall that listened, I said, “I hate you.”
And a half-hour later you at a table we both offering the all,
the constellations from the hall,
the absoluteness of your mouth, your hand,
and as that summer night descended
a bell-jar dropped slow and shiny over us and we took in its narcotic air.
The stars in the night sky shone like the polished eyes of herring.

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