what to do.

they stand up
all of them, in that room
from where they had been sat
and you figure it's like
one huge wave
in one large, blue sea
you also figure
they way they all move; one way
then the next
juxtaposed, warm.
well, you figure that's almost like a current.
and maybe that's what we all are
just part of one huge sea
whenever we move.

and when you see such a face:
blank and yet...
the familiarity brightens it
the feelings sharpen it
and create something even more beautiful
you can't help but think
things are moving much too fast
and you love it, you adore it
and still they move
inches out of your grasp
the lovely dizziness you remember
from long ago
you wish for it and you turn it away

what the fuck to do?
chance it again like you had last time
just for it to turn out the same?
or will it be finally different.
the shattering of gold-tinged glass
can be heard from all corners
from each sense:
smell, taste, sight, feel
hear.
so many things now brighten before you
things that were gray
black and white.
now they're robin blue
hot pink and canary yellow
swirling together, these pastels
in your mind's eye.

and
what to do.