if it is you
or the other
who disappears first.
Only that
you were
there,
and then
you were
seen.
As if
seeing
were the first
and final
form
of prayer.
A flick of fur,
wet-glass moon of an eye,
and something
remembers itself.
You become
less person
than presence,
less animal
than aperture.
The world
resolves
into pupil and pause.
