“the mirror”

i took a picture of you the day before
the world ended, and your smile
was as bright as a memory. your
hair fell over your face like man’s
fall from grace, and we dissected time
with a fine-toothed comb. “we are
going to die tomorrow,” i thought.
and you said, “all we have is now.”
now, the earth passes through 
faded photographs - snapshots of
the sun rising over restless rooftops.
clocks ticking for prisoners of gravity,
rain dripping from the sky like chipped
paint. umbrellas unfurling into fear.
now, the photo hangs in a frame. a
frozen moment of clarity in the warm
comfort of confusion. i remember you
telling me “there is no afterlife because
there is no death.” then, i didn’t believe
you because i was in the dark room
of my mind, processing pictures of
what i wanted the world to look like
instead of stopping to see it through
the right kind of light.