I
found thee in a foundry, dark and set for allegory,
filled with hammers, forges, catwalks, carts, and slag, piled storey after storey,
found the ever-looping dart-ridden circuit, where we—
where we were not meant to wander in,
where I found thee, and friends and kin,
fighting and fleeing some forces
for something that I can't remember,
and at the shutting down at the end of the time,
I was sitting on a rail with somebody pale and strawberry blonde,
the color of which was a match with the sky
as the sun imperceptibly dawned.
Pieces of everyone reformed and we greeted
each other and I recognized your name and didn't want to let you go but
the world is over.