For Riley

For Riley -

A thick black stroke of the brush
Tonight I imagine my life as such
A gentle wisp at the head, expanding in the middle
And at the end we none of us know

But every moment feels like the end of that stroke
A thick, black terminus
The beginning is so faint and so remote
It’s hard to recall

Trailing behind me is my stroke, my life
And flooding it now is yours
That together we make but the most minute mark on this perplexing page
Is the stuff of dreams, my love