Intermission

.
Only now I learned that intermission is a gap
that fills nothing in a one-act play,
an empty space in time

forefeited to actors in rehearse of roles,

as if space is a stage and scenes are deadwoven
in time. The curtain has to wait, yes,
but why a dreary wait for an image

of white?

Picture us actors in a play continuum,
a lovers' one act, mounted on a stage of cliches
-- and ask ourselves:

do we need gaps?

Distance deduced to intermission is space
unbearable, where time is void and moments
are short breaths in futile attempts

to stop a lonely bleeding
and bloody longing.

Now, I am fast learning the act of dying.