There are intervals of silence That refuse to have a name An exquisite loss of sequence In the architecture of the sane I have witnessed my own absence With an almost sacred calm As the distance between moments Made a stranger of my hands And the certainty dissolves Without violence, without sound Not a revelation Just the absence of the ground If I lose the thread again If the hours cease to bend Will you recognize the shape Of what remains? I come and go I come and go Somewhere in the space between The things I'll never know I come and go I come and go Hold me in the afterglow Before I let me go There's a certain kind of terror In the elegance of doubt When the witness and the subject Become impossible to count Every feeling has a distance Every memory has a cost And the absence of resistance Is mistaken for a thought I was present for the ending But I cannot place the scene There was nothing to remember There was nothing in between If the hours lose their meaning If the boundaries disappear Is the absence of a feeling Still a feeling I should fear? I come and go I come and go Somewhere in the space between The things I'll never know I come and go I come and go Hold me in the afterglow Before I let me go There is no dramatic ending No confession, no release Just the gradual suspension Of a carefully constructed peace If I am the sum of all That I can no longer recall What becomes of the remainder When the final reference falls? No beginning No conclusion No distinction No illusion I come and go I come and go Somewhere in the space between The things I'll never know I come and go I come and go Hold me in the afterglow Before I let me go I come and go I come and go And no one ever knows
