timepiece/14

by poems & doodles

there have been nights

where the only way I 

assured myself

the sun would still come up

was by the sure and steady

measure of your seconds,


heartbeat by heartbeat


the smallness of my hand

nested between your ribs,

your arms twisted around my

body, your sighs the stroke

of the hour. 


not a bad place to stay

if the sun never came up again. 

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