Time is like so much mercury
impossible to hold onto
it moves past me
slipping and sliding
finding the cracks in the facade
and escaping quickly through them.
It seemed like forever
would be a lot longer than it was.
You showed your true colors too late for me to see
that the hues you painted in would never be on my palette.
So I dip my brush in the muddied waters
and try to start anew
but I find myself cupping my hands
and trying desperately to hold that quicksilver still.
And every canvas I touch becomes you again.

12/06/2003