I loll in time, bask in piles of minutes

that I know will run out like tacks in a

carpenter’s jar.

 

A whole day before me like a feast of hours,

embraces me in seeming eternity that darkens

at nightfall. 

 

I am left wondering at splashed stars on the roof of being, the moon like an owl looking back at me as I stand in the cooling yard among the sleepers stretched out in their beds,

in tidy houses just far apart enough to not offend like business men positioned just so in an elevator.

 

My time here is measured with your heartbeat.

Your eyes float in space, see me, are silent.

They are beautiful when you remember to love me, sere and punctured when you do not.

 

I am an exoskeleton, whose fresh, winged life is with you.

 

Not here at all.