Not Enough Time

Not enough time
on your shoulder
before we’re older.

The waiting alone
is an eternity
we’re denied.

On rare days,
the sky tries
experimental hues;

and the garlands
clipped from
smokestack gardens

and arrayed across
night’s doorway
are not to be missed.

Just with whom,
these rosy glows?
I choose your room

for sleepovers,
your skin for my
grinning hands.

Everything spins,
light and dark.
Scripture neck

and fleshy bones
that collaborate
to squeeze.

A year, a sneeze.
A kiss, a while.
Then this:

I’m’a teach your
knees fear.
There’s that smile.


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