I killed the light
so I could hear you talk
about death
within the life of journeys

How come, say,
that this is the most real I've felt in weeks?
As a ghost through the glass in the night
mute and almost blinded
by the light of the moon
Unseen, unacknowledged
and yet - and yet
It's as if you looked at me
for the first time
Met my gaze
and still decided to speak