Saturday, December 4, 2010

Time

Is slipping down the wall
Gripping imperfections
With a hold like cold molasses
-- It tears at the paint

Pulls our eyes to the floor
Where the weight of
Lost expectations
Settle

Turns
Where your shoulder meets the wall,
Writhes in the folds of your clothing
Switching back and forth
Pulling at your sleeves
Confusing me --

Finally weary of the encumbrance
You rest your hands in your pockets
Shuffle your feet,
And look away

Jumping between us
It finally thieves our words

Senses victory,
Splashes on the floor
And disappears-

Seeing it leave I look up
Just as you tell me
You don’t have time

I nod and turn to the door
While above our heads
Another moment forms

-- Anxious to steal