Against White Light

I want nothing but to sit here, and
Watch her great pools of eyes burn like silver oil.

She moves, languid, toward the window,
the white light brightens her smooth, screaming lines,

accentuates her lively beauty, ever effervescent,
that shines like the morning sun through trees
in a green meadow.

I watch, in black and white, as everything
around her fades to a black.

And then, all that remains, is the smoke from her stub,
And a memory that rests, simple and assured,
ever, in my mind.

(2005)