I want to
put this moment in my pocket and make a plaster cast to hang above my bed leaving the actual moment to languish on a shelf so I can dust it every day and behold its radiance
spin this moment into fine gold thread and weave it into sailcloth and use it to catch the wind and set my raft into motion
- -and use the remainder to sew together quilt pieces and wrap it around me when the wind gets harsh
sublimate this moment and keep the vapour in an ornamental carafe to spray on my pulse points in formal situations
shape this moment with soft laser light and form the moment into rose-colored lenses to permanently obscure and define my vision
hide this moment under my mattress and read it in times of desperation as a reminder of sweet guilty reality
crystallize this moment and stir it into bitter black coffee with a liberal dose of irish cream
paint a mirror to reflect this moment forever
wrap this moment around a globe so I might turn the moment this way and that, look at it from all angles, and still see the moment as a beautiful thing.
- -and use the fully inflated moment as a flotation device in case of emergency
or put the moment behind glass with labels that warn to release the moment only when lives are at stake
rub the moment over my face like a beam of sunlight filtered through a translucent shower curtain and enrich my pores with jojoba, camomile, and this moment
plant this moment in the ground below my window and climb down the beanstalk to some hidden place of salvation.