Tether Me

Take my hand and tether me my fingers outstretched, long and unnatural, being pulled gently, slowly, vibrations slowing. Don't let my fingers slip away -- do not release my weight or am I weightless? Which second or millisecond do we transform from weight to ether? The soul knows and prepares for lift and for loft. I see you now, expressionless, or crying -- maybe dying, as I drift upward, speed increasing. I see you and you grow smaller. I'm flying now. Can you see me? You are a pinpoint much like an ink mark, superfine, on paper that once recorded who I was and who you will continue to be. Tether my memory now, dear love, I fear I am a pinpoint too.