frozen moments and you

[MisterJingo]

a surge of grief washes my senses,
seeming to ride the dim,
blue, evening light, and
suddenly i realise, that
this moment will soon be over -
never to be replayed,
that this life will soon be over -
always to be forgotten,
and that which i am, will fade -
dissipate -
end.
caught forever, light is frozen on my eye, a picture of you
arms stretched, evening light tracing your pink flesh,
tracing your face, and
reflecting back at my own eyes
so that i may construct you
experience you internally
(for that is all we ever know) .
the very same light that washes your body, also
washes my mind
yet, forever and always, we are separated
by the width of a single electron.

[wow_nonamesleft]

I liked this, you should keep writing. This is quite an old post(over 120 days), but I hope you read this, in case you needed some support.
Well atleast you have inspired me to want to write something beautiful.

[MisterJingo]

Thank you for the kind comments . I haven't had much time for writing lately - well apart from lots of snippets of ideas, lines etc.
Good luck with your writing, I hope to read some of it if you post it here .

[theotherside]

All stories tell the tale of human experience.  Each thing we create is a reflection of something more grandeur than we can ever imagine; a chapter in the greatest tale of all. =]

[ubiquitous]

makes me want to be sick!
All that putrid "i'll never look into your eyes again" blah yak!
The only thing that separates us is the width of an electron..hahahaha
u r a MAX plank

[MisterJingo]

makes me want to be sick!
All that putrid "i'll never look into your eyes again" blah yak!
The only thing that separates us is the width of an electron..hahahaha
u r a MAX plank

And with that, you miss the entire point of the poem.
It's not about "never looking into eyes again"; it's about the ephemeral nature of experience.
It's about how those people or objects closest to us are only ever experienced through our own sensory interpretations. Such as touching your lover or being touched: your body simply interprets a stimulated nerve ending which is combined with visual and auditory input, creating an experienced which is filtered entirely through ones own experience to date.
We have a brief respite from the void, non-experience, death, and even in this time we are totally and utterly alone – all contact and experience is ourselves experiencing ourselves, and then we are gone: on the longest timeline, even gods die.

[Embodied Words]

The other guy may not have liked it, but I loved it. I totally understand what you're saying. Even when you're with someone you love, you don't really know them at all. We have all this damn physical matter seperating us from really touching.

And when we die, what are the chances of ever seeing or knowing that person again? ::sigh:: We are, really, alone. Arn't we?