Consider the duration of light, its passage from green dimensions to a hammer’s blow on the optic nerve, its posture and velocity, its chiaroscuro, its bit part in the drama of cosmic recycling that pulls the lazy contrail of a comet into the earth’s atmosphere, partially eradicated, swerving like a dance party, its pinball existence complicated by such swerving and the music of gravity, that draws the electron to your cheek, which it kisses before bouncing with such sweet geometry through my retina to make contact, to tell a story of what it touched, translated to neurons and to ink and to the fading memory of hue and curvature, the duration of a glimpse that bounces in a mind’s eye as if forever.