My heart is not a tower,
and I am not perched on its rim,
calling out to the world.
Instead it is simply muscle and
blood and the seat of no intelligence.
I call to it to go on forever,
but soon in a flash, just as stars go,
the blood will settle and remain,
and from my farthest vision
to my nearest breath
everything will turn to stone.
If by chance there is a witness,
in that moment:
what enormous empty space they will know.