The first thing I thought was, she should be moving.
She should be moving.
I would like to see her pick up her arms, and groan, and roll over onto her side, and complain about something. I would like to see that very much.
I'd die to see that happen. But it doesn't.
The second thing I think is, Dawn. Where is Dawn ? She shouldn't see this. Nobody should have to see this, not ever. Nobody who loves should have to see this. If I tried hard enough now, I think I could feel guilty. That's a first. But Dawn is right here, coming down the steps, and she knows. She sees. Everyone does. They're all wandering up like ghosts. They look like ghosts, pale and dusty and wounded somewhere that you can't see. They look like neglected books.
She is very beautiful.
'Death's pale banners have not yet...' oh, forget it. Poetry is over. Poetry is dead.
I guess she went up on the tower, and did what I couldn't do.
Is time passing ? I can't tell.
She died a couple of minutes ago. So many minutes ago. What's a minute to me ? I've had... let's see. A hundred and twenty... times three hundred and sixty-five... times twenty-four... times sixty. So many. If only I could give her some of them. I would. I would.
I wasted my life.
And the sky splits wide open just in front of me. The clouds see me, and they're smiling, cracking their teeth apart, just for me. A few little feet in front of me. I'd like to thank them. But then I hear something I thought I'd never hear again. That voice.
"Spike." she says, and I have to turn. Dawn is calling out to me now, screaming for me, over and over. I can't go to her. It's too late. "Spike." says the shape in front of me, the thing shaped like a beam of sunlight. The thing that changes in front of my eyes. It's not sunlight any longer. It's blonde hair, and soft hips, and a mouth like a rose; and muscle and grace. It's her.
I know it isn't really. But it doesn't matter.
I see her, and the light... it's glorious. It fills me up, and I'm whole. I reach out my arms, and she's so close. Everything, at last, is right. As it should be. The sun has come up, and the day is clear and fine. I was wrong. It's going to be alright. We can be here. We can just be here, with nothing between us any longer. No pain, no pressure, no fear, no pride. Just her and me. And she's so close.
And then I'm nothing. Then I'm dust.