Here's another fiction
about how I fought the temptation
to look through a stone at sunset
so as to tell the future,
because I felt in a diamond flash
free of the need to know anything
but now.
We traveled home that night
in an old bakkie and I sat
still in the back, before being
blown away by your silence.
Old friend, what a gift
that cramped seat was,
singing as it did of wide
open space
and this faith which is no faith:
which is known and seen and
never used.
I have no idea
what really happened, of course,
though I'll lay my life down
in a heartbeat to hear
your silent love again.