le temps ici


time here happens differently.
it’s like a long artificial afternoon
of clicking and checking and ringing,
and it lasts so long, too long,
you might actually die.
but then, it’s a night
skiing wide eyed into the dirty streets
with your heart out to here
and your drink dripping quietly onto your sheer skirt,
and no ones looking because you’re all watching.
and then there’s the sun,
and the musky smell of morning
and it’s been a month,
and now it’s august 13th already.
i like the way that works
the way time tricks me like that
the way i hope to see you again
where time happens differently.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem