Nightfall grew out of itself, like the

vigil of a vigil.

As Central Park was corraled between.

Everyone stuck around, because it

wasn't their time--like those two.

Led out to where nightfall could go

no further--there was just what stood

stood for it now.

There they stood next to one another,

letting go of hands for the first time.

To hear a cello command Bethesda

Terrace.

As soon as it came to life, it bellowed

lifetimes--one let go into another.

Its sound made archways the height

of what passes through.

Its unbearable ache grew in them.

The burden of nightfall was theirs alone.

They knew it--they just did, now there's

no coming back.