Apocalypse, a poem

Apocalypse
e.m. moulton august 2004

we talked about what you believed tonight
after the rain and the last glass of wine
and what you would be willing to pay a price for
despite what you saw and did that ultimately
defy the gravity that pulls you down

was it made of flesh and blood and would it
refuse all the kingdoms of this world
for love alone and the chance to start again
from the beginning and the thought of hope
not being deferred like you felt last week
alone on the crowded subway car and

of course you said you had thought of this but opted for
a more complex and sophisticated ransom
from this sickened earth, something about believing in
everything and questioning it all and how you would like to
hang on until tomorrow when maybe something
made sense or might be dropped down in some sort of apocalyptic moment
that is what you said you needed now and then you faded

staring into a basket of bread crumbs
and tracing a water droplet down the side your glass
you were gone like flame into night whispering
something about a friend living across seas
and how you hoped to hear from her soon