It was ours
The hours, the minutes, the seconds
I counted each; desperate for distraction
A moment of respite from the glorious torture of being needed
An omen were the nights when I fell silent in the backyard
2am in the salty breeze; lying in the dirt
A wet nose defibrillating my forehead
Letting the thoughts run out
Drying like tears on my cheeks
The bed is quiet where you lay
Like a house cat in a sunbeam
Unconcerned by the source of the warmth on the floor
A thousand ears with no hands
A thousand years still ends
I did not tick, I groaned
Like a bridge crumbling in a sunbeam
Unkempt yet well-worn
Who will time blame for my downfall?
Who will want my drowning pieces?
