And it's that moment of the movie. Night time. City lights flare orange across the screen. Music is hanging there catching the
theater's darkness and deeply growling in its new dark stomach. slow crescendo. Camera is closer and closer to a face. A man.
A quiet voice. Camera rolls over, lenses recoil to understand this new figure behind the man. A girl. The kind that leaves a warm blueness around her.
And she's said wait. Or I love you. Or just wait and a smile. The music's receeded. Just a hum of strings plucking soft.
And you've forgotton your hands and you're floating up. And the man turns softly and the screen is a soft sheet and a softer leg.
Then it's all black and you're faced now with a curving wisdom of yourself. You're happy because they are happy. Because they've done it.
They've broken out of the Cycle. They found a credit line and surgeoned it to their upswing. Now with no end they don't need to continue.
They'll die in a pocket of bliss. And you're there. Not alone but alone in this dark theater and a part of your soul is gone.
It died on the upswing. Some word is whispered and your thrown back into the Cycle and you're too far to see now running down that circle.
We'll see you on your next lap.