Moments dribble down the back of my neck
like sweat.
Time is in enfolded fragments
not measured by a clock.
Hearts stop;
reassured by
temptation’s wandering, blind eye.
Bleeding up out
of the lead ground;
drops pool
then amass to
old, running rivulets;
furrows
on skin
& an eternity
to drink it in,
seeping from ancient wounds.
Seconds as holes
you can slide down into.
A lake;
black, stark,
infinitely deep, dark;
beats like a heart,
& a soft shore
made of treacherous spongy sand;
smooth, alluring,
but don’t step in;
that toe
will be swallowed up whole,
but where is it you need to go?