Rushing to a memory,

Sinking in a daydream puddle

Breathing heavily,

We’re muffled

By the screams of streaking

Bubbles,

Burning in the dark.

Not holding on to what I’ve got

Just long enough to form a thought

Or piece together fragments

Of this view.

At the end of this winding tunnel

Bands and knots of light and ice, and fire zipping past.

See my arm reach out before me,

Taking hold of you and all,

But the hair upon my skin

Is greying, faster than we move

My bony, shaking hand against

Your wrinkled, withering face.

This is the time I spent to get to you.

Lightyears passing gladly.

Yes, and happily

We will too.