life spans and fractures
into both
    grim intervals
  and
eras of expanse.
the time of you
  stretches behind me
to this moment and no further.
it cannot be,
   so i live in a past of you
covered in the thinnest lines of gold
  the light heartbreaking
  and the air life itself.
   the music encompasses
what even words cannot
      and i could weep at my thankfulness.
today, like every day
  i have the smallest grasp
  the smallest hope
  that the time of you
        stretches and conforms to
  the shape of one more day.