Players

and there you are

under street lights,
roving lights,

helicopter blades
of chiaroscuro
whip by windowpanes,

gaps growing larger

reach an apex,
pass by face and
shrinking

only to grow again,

your face obscured
in shadows
and golden rays

there's the beginning of
sweat on my brow
building on my glasses
frame,

I've been too alive
for too long,

but, there are things coming to,
get us only you can see,

I search for you hand
far away, far far, far away,
knowing I'll never catch it,

street light strains
under imperceptible
screams shakes and shatters
throwing sparks that cough about
our haloed heads,

then the scene goes blank
soon the audience will cheer,

you say I can stop holding
my breath.

I find that hard to believe.