I wish we’d met travelling
snowed in in some airport
on a long train ride
or any other place
confined by space and time

We’d exchange short narratives
of defining moments
tastes, occupations,
demographics, worst jokes
a plan or two

We’d grow tired of talking
check notifications
send some excuses
but mostly just sit together
and pass the time

We’d forget our facades
as fatigue set in
scratch, pick
yawn uncovered
exchange successes
and failures
past or foreseen
expecting nothing
revealing everything
in spite of ourselves

After which we’d never look back

Instead of years
that could fit in a day
of crossing paths
with little to say
time stretching each moment
decidedly prepared
always falling short
of desires curbed and saved
for a day that never came


the big picture


Yes, I see
the big picture
The one
with commitments
Arching over
every horizon
And goals thickening
in the sky
But it doesn’t sustain
my focus
Like the details
that poke through the fog–
The feel of the back of your neck
against the palm of my hand
The nuance between your skin
and the colour of your lips
The inflection of your voice
thickening with intent
The arch of your eyebrows
awaiting an answer
you may not like
And your eyes flashing
at a challenge–
I let my mind trip
and my heart rip
upon these protrusions
before they too fade
into the big picture

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I used to measure time
by your absence
In your presence it stood still
Now it’s hours, minutes, seconds
of emptiness to fill
I keep looking over
at calendars and clocks
keeping time and tracing marks
But there’s nothing to wait for
nothing to plan
You’ve gone away
and everything’s blank

poor timing 

I step in too close
and feel my nose crush
against the revolving doors
I was never much good
at double Dutch
or skipping rope
nor holding out
against all hope
My coffee has spilt
over me like guilt
and leaves a stain
on what remains of my dignity
as I fumble to efface
the disgrace of once again
being out of line
and out of time

that time of day

There is a certain time of day
when the need
to bridge the distance
is greater
than the need to breathe
And straddling it
even partly in your presence
for an instant
brings the world to a halt
and resets the rhythm again

There is a certain time of day
when the only way
to satiate the rising hunger
is to grasp onto you
and knead you into a form
that can withstand
the thrashes
of my frustration
at this limited feast

It is that time of day
when I wish I had not
enough amounted experience
to know all possible outcomes
of each moment
as it unfolds
and feel the disappointment
lurking behind all endings

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