There was once a man who said to me,
"I came here through means unknown."
His speaking stopped and I looked.  
Fifty once-men walked in synthesis to his unspoken words.
Somewhere, calliope music played tunes,
echoing current affairs.
I froze a while, seeing another one.
What was once a friend barely seen anymore.
What is their eye worth if I can't recall it?
Blues, browns and greens  stopped mattering.
But I do remember the mouth,
its upward curves especially.
It was a shadow to old times sake
and an homage to memories.
One flash of light later.

Upon finding myself in bed,
sweat had never seemed so comforting.