There is light in the tips of the little plastic fibers
that splay out from the top of the cheap party-favor toy
when you turn on the switch. It is multi-colored neon.
You click off then on again. It is purple. Off. On.
Then red. Off on. Orange. On and on it changes
going through a complete color wheel.
It runs on tiny button batteries. There are some
that are dead and still alive. Though they go on living,
blank dots mark new constellations of sorts on spaces
much brighter but farther away.
This is you at the speed of light*.
Reflective after the initial flash.
But I am very still. Or appear to be. My impact coming
much later, when I finally figure out what it means to be cold.
I will be a red dwarf, my light much older. Dim but not out.
And not completely knowing.
I did not know that my face was a ship that sails inside a spark**.
Jan. 1st, 2006
Revised (slightly) from an older version.
*From “The Disappearances” by Vijay Seshadri.
**From “A Mirror for a Question” by Adonis. (Translated, from the Arabic, by Khaled Mattawa.)