Swan

When you pass through that windshield
all shining dreams, all tumbling crystal,
your life a beautiful gleam
on the gray asphalt of the galaxy,
you, the only one I loved or cared about,
when spears of piercing light shoot through skin
of crumpled metal, through jumbled organs through scrambled heart-dice
of sugar skull safety glass, when
the seat belt goes slick, when the hub cap spins upside down
on your whirling iris, when all that happens,
what song will you sing?
Will it be a song you know by heart,
in those last moments of exploding supernova?
Or something brand new, improvised
in one last burst of inspiration?
Whatever the tune, I will catch the echo in my palm,
hold it tight in the cage of my fist
like a fluttering moth
then hold it up to my ear
so that only I may hear.
When I see you again, I will hum it to you
so that you may recognize me by the melody.