Confusion in Underground Clouds

Forever

The grid split,
spread, lines of sky
like laser beams split atoms
and the night.
Four quarters of the moon hovered 
bleeding in the dark.
Infant cries of hollowed souls 
hanging from a noose of stars
dimming in their sectors,
feeding ever widening gyres,
flowing fleshless vectors.
Zoetrope images (a girl, a boy) flicker across the crumbling walls of the listing, lilting
sky 
and fade for those lost spectres watching history flicker and die
as the candle of creation bends in the wind of decrepit time,
holding seconds in its apex wavering.
The cold flame walks along the lines of the grid in a gasoline fit and stops
at the beat of a heart.
A wisp of smoke floats up from a second
as the arythmia of love skips the lines of the grid extinguishing the flame, the back draft pulls back the universe folding the split back into
ever and that heart beats for…