The light at the end of the tunnel,
a reflection in the rim of your glasses.
I'm not looking for illumination,
iridescence, elucidation.
I'm on this path to admire orange stones
and stop to greet stray cats.
You're calling me from the high dive,
but I'm clinging to the edge of the pool.
The tunnel can wait.
For now, dim the lights.
Leave your glasses on my bedside table.
Just kiss me.