Variations on Time

1. Time Out


I sit on a bench as cars, buses whirr by, light from the sky

crowning them in sharp shine. Children on scooters, bikes,

skates, they go by too. I watch their shadows change as the

day shifts, watch them pass, headed east, headed west, headed

somewhere I am not, and gone just like that.


Morning opens its door just a crack at first, letting

light seep through only the bottom before allowing

it to spill over and finally sucking it all back. Each day

the same on that bench, but each missing something

from the one before. A subtle loss that leaves a ring in

the ears, the sound grows heavier, fills the cavity in the

chest where breath goes.


Cars whirr by in new models, children grow up and make

children, day always cracks dawn overhead then dissipates

into nostalgic breeze. But no day is like that first one when

light rolled in so bright it  blinded everything in sight and

promised brilliance.




blades of nostalgia cut the air against my skin, this decade old vision of my hair long and me kneeling over against you in black and olive tones has worn thin at the edges. all this time and it is still there and i wonder why i painted it to begin with…

I wake up to time having already slipped away
slid through crevices
that I am not quick enough to guard.
Synapses that creak
that I am too lazy to mend
and I wonder why I do this to myself,
why not just wake up and get on with it full force
hold on like I’m sifting for precious jewels

How many lives are buried in our palms lifetimes
of lines lines of lifetimes, hidden narratives that
continue to play themselves spin themselves
like tops spun by the ghost fingers of past and
future selves simultaneously?

Time takes everything with it, Time’s a greedy child that packs the world and its infinite everything into his Radio Flyer and pulls it fast behind him into adulthood until Time dies






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