Relativity

Time is a rubber band
stretching this way and that-
thin and small, then
thickly unbreakable
wrapping tighter around
my accusatory finger

Alone, and time is slow;
altogether too much of it stretches
ions into tomorrow
when I should, I should, I should
be doing (getting)
better, like it was something
you could catch:
a recipe, a derelict,
making contracts with myself
a lifetime of construction

But then, here you are
and sunrise comes too quickly
when the world, bathed in its harsh fire
turns bright and burning
and I, bloody,
battle-torn and ragged stagger
back into my life that sits
right where I left it,
unchanged

You want something to do
and I, I want your hours
your useless minutes
I want to infect every inch
of my wasteful life
with the gallop of our pace

My head is a ticker tape of
useless information,
overflow running rogue because
I spare, and cool and calculate the costs;
time with you must be parceled,
words like tickets spent wisely
until my turn
is over

I used to draw flowers and
tick the petals off, one by one:
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not!
Now I kiss you harder
to see what will come out,
because growing up I learned
there is so much more
in the middle

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