In the game of life, when the final buzzer sounds, the only stat you carry with you is the number of assists you made.
It's hard to tell
if we close our eyes or if night
opens in us other starred eyes,
if it burrows into the wall of our dream
till some other door opens.
But the dream is only the flitting costume of one moment,
is spent in one beat
of the darkness,
and falls at our feet, cast off
as the day stirs and sails away with us.