With every step
she can feel herself scintillate,
a dead star on rewind,
a black hole puckering back
to newborn radiance.
She can feel creases
re-form on elbows,
the circles within circles
of her fingerprints,
hands longing to touch
but not yet; she dares not breathe.
As the wink of day grows close
she feels him tremble
and can do nothing,
knows then his wan face,
the dimmed lights of his eyes.