The glass fogged slowly
covering the moon.
That pulse way out there, far away-
it looked so distant from the window.
I stared out over the street
black ash of dead fires
rejecting the ghostly light.
Why did I come.
This wasn't what I wanted.
One, two, three -
did I want to see?
the burning paper
glowing an orange hole in my world .
I passed
one, two, three -
did I feel Free?
shorter and shorter
it would be too late.
I breathed.