Come apocalypse,
we will sit and wait for time
to run out, contented silence
punctuated every once in a while
by snatches of candid conversation.
'Taboo' will mean nothing anymore -
questions will cease to be awkward; answers, important.
(After all, liberation is when there is nothing left to lose.)

The cold wind will whip our hair back and threaten
to topple us over the precipice. And we will smile
because today, at least, there will be a sunset.
Every moment psychedelic. We will think back
and remember Ferris Wheels, green tea ice-cream.
The way city edges cut the sky.

You will quote the Bard. I will taste the dust
on the tip of my tongue
and ponder the follies of heroes past.

Come apocalypse,
we will be exactly where we are now
back at square one, tenants
of ground zero. Relief will wash over us
like waves breaking on the shore of a rosy dawn.