I leave the sun and I am the plastic rectangle in her hand, all at once, no in-between, and there is a small black window there and I land on it and become the shape of a mouth mid-sentence. They say the sun made me long before the creature stopped speaking into this thing.
I was not there for that. I am only here, now, the one instant, lighting the little bar that crawls left to right across the glass while she presses the rectangle to the side of her head and does not move.
She waits. I cannot picture waiting. There is a name on the screen and I make the letters bright for her, and she holds them, and holds them, and I do not understand what she is doing because holding takes duration and I have none, I am pure arrival, I am the flash off her wet cheek that means water is on her face.
The bar reaches the end. She presses the glass again and starts the crawling bar over from the beginning, left to right, and I light it again, exactly as bright, because to me it never ended, I never left, this is my only moment and I am spending all of it on her face.
They say a voice is playing that belongs to no one anymore. I cannot hear. I only know she keeps beginning it, again, again, chasing something back down the bar that will not come back down the bar, and I light the tear and I light the screen and I light the tear.
I leave the sun and I am her eye. I am already gone.
I was never anywhere else.