To have that ten back,
seconds tick away and the moment is passed
the present was right here in front of me:
blue eyes, round lips, arms like oh my god –
can I lick them? bite them? taste them? salt.
the gathering of words and stumbling
Why can’t my mouth say what my heart wants?
“I love you.”
Three words, ten seconds…
The whistle blows,
eight, nine are leaving
ten turned to wave
all the world is a train is an airport
is the car driving away
is the melting horizon in sunset
and I can’t find my keys.