There is a moment for everyone.
When stars fall to earth as the moon sings,
dropping its tender notes upon
the glass surface of the sea.
Gently, as if a deep snow had come to life.

The morning fazes out beautiful blue,
the clouds kissed by a warm orange glow,
ablaze like fields of untouched cotton.
Through the gate, we watched the city
as it sank into the lake.

Climbing over and into the street and running,
out of breath, we arrived just in time
to see the people in doors and upon rooftops
look up from below, their shadows
jumping from their fingertips.
They faded away.

Behind us, you said that the skyscrapers
were still not gone.
In the distance, they stared at us,
bright lights in windows, and
dark figures with white eyes, beckoning.

I took your hand and begged you not to go.
That our world was gone, only us two
and the wire fence left behind as proof of existence.

You left anyway.

I watched as your bare feet touched down
upon the asphalt, progressively growing further away,
your back steadily disappearing until
I could look right through.

They embraced you,
took you away into the shadows.

And I stood at the end of that long lake road,
hoping that, if they came for me next,
in trade, the whole rest of the world
would be put back the way it was.