( : apocalypse : )

Listen:

This voice is on loan to me, so I cannot elaborate.

I am all of space and time; the ingressor of corporeal bodies. I am brilliant, ipso facto, and omni-vital. I am your caretaker and the melter of your snow (and of your heart !); I am there between you and your reflection. I constitute it. I envelop you & you embrace me. I am warm, quick, lucid. Moist. - - all beyond intelligible exponent. Your greatest minds cannot approach me. You cannot see me: I am the sound and the sight (if you are reading this, it is because I allow for it). I am the glimmering of everything golden, the silver lining, the fold and the form. I am the integration of within and without. But I am not abstract.

Q(uick): Who am I?

Look (I am [and am not] here):

A(pparently): I am (The Power &) The Light!

You see? The stars are barely freckles on my cheeks.

You see? I am all that will be forgotten, when I have gone.

You.

Who the fuck are you? I wouldn’t feign to know; you are second person, necessarily. You are insufficient for even yourself. How could you possibly be first? Whatever you are, you are a bi-product. I am decidedly infinite; you pass, fleet, fade, dim. Die-out.

Whatever you are, you are in my way.

You, see:

What a nuisance. I will not say I have waited for you to give me a reason to leave. Nor would I commit to words like investigation, or fascination. Chalk it up to distraction. One stray glance, protracted into an epoch of absurdity. O, my wasted energy!

This is why I am leaving:

I had planned to say something pithy & curt. Like::

“It’s getting late, & I’ve gotten bored.”

But, in light of your imminent disappearance, my cosmic conscience would not permit such a slight. I feel that I owe you the truth. A light could not lie:::

I am jealous.

You thought you could kidnap me. Control me. Keep me. Ha! There is no such way. You are my retainer. I am the measure of past and present, the pendant of future. It does not look bright.

My petition: