It would be a lie to tell you
that the first moment I carved your face
Into my pupils
Time ceased to exist
For it was there I had never been so
Aware of the second hands
Pushing into the nerves of my solidity
and the temporal urgency
which grinds away the poise
Of my soft, uncertain spine

It would be a lie to tell you
that the first moment your mouth
met a smile
The noise of others vanished
For it was there I had never been so
acquainted with the static
of human life
and the energy in the crowd
that simply failed to sway you

My heart is an hourglass in my throat
Draining all the words into the back of my larynx
whenever I look at you
And my head is filled with blusterous discourse
each time your ambitions address me
The ebb of communication drags our attentions
So that we are pulled into the midst
of time's animation
and spread together into the stream
of the world's exertion

01/26/2005

Posted on 01/27/2005
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