on meeting / death

walking
steady, he
approaches.

shadow-veiled
and calm,
armed with
the cold breath
of memory,

the tiny storm clouds
of forever.

i am the dawn
of my first footsteps,
the cobalt blue sky

of love,

the stomach-twisting
of my first kiss,

the relentless
stamp
of age.

quietly,
the storms
tumble down and drown out the light of my mind,

until i am void of misery or

mystery.