There were no fiddles sawing
in an upbeat rhythm that made
me want to tap my feet against
dusty, bare hardwood floors.
There was no blinding flash of
lightning that illuminated the room,
dispelling the shadows of the night.
There was no synchronised chorus of
angelic voices pouring out a high note
designed to elicit awe and atmosphere.
There was just him.
The moment was naked,
without glorification or glamour,
and in the moment that he lost,
that he surrendered his soul,
I looked into his eyes and wondered
what the hell I'd done.