It does not close completely
That troublesome mitral valve
Thus slowing down
The steps of days
Memories refluxing
As the flow of time
And experience
As the flow of words
And the search for
A new code
That would unlock
That matrix and
That whole detritus
Of life
Would come barreling
Down
Tumbling on your
Divided being
And you wouldn’t
Even realize
As your eyes
Beheld
A light
Different
From any other
A sound of
Unaccustomed frequency
Tearing through
Your ears
And maybe
Perhaps maybe
You’d be ready
To go.