I stare with my mouth open, at my wristwatch.
Impervious to the fact that I am drooling.
But I let the drool rest there
Until time rusts.
Flashes of language describe something called
Memories. But as laughter commences and
Beer soothes a chatting throat,
Describing the Old Times
Becomes much more
Shapes & Colors.
It’s a blink of an eye
Where the darkness seems to last
It’s a phone call
That ends with:
“Have we really been talking for two hours?”
Of regret & shame.
In Any-Town USA
A person can find existence
Describing the stubbornness of clarity.
Within this timeline
And never goodbyes
If memories are an example of anything
ALL IS INFINITE.
Footsteps taken cannot be un-done.
When blinking ends
And eyelevel is a measurement of distance
Look to the past with a smile.
Look to the future wide-eyed.
Forget about blinking.
Let the eyes swell with tears
Because they’re dry
Not because they’re sad.
And so it comes
That I end with this.
Keep the adventures going.
When something remains stagnant
It rusts. And rust is very boring to look at.