two hundred and eighty seven hours
i have two hundred and eighty seven hours and one minute
to convince myself to open my mouth and mind
because i was not going to let myself lose an opportunity  
which is what i do as often as the sun sets

the only thing i can think of is how the first time i saw you
i remember thinking that maybe the cliche stories of love at first sight (that were as believable as a man claiming he has never sinned) were actually true.
the smoke rises and the lights come out and the vibrations in the room raise and all i want is for you to hold me like the girl that is in your hands right now
and all i get from you is a step on my jazz shoe and a look on your face that speaks "i'm sorry" and then a smile of 100 watt light bulbs

and i think about how light bulbs come in different shapes in sizes, and we are both the curly q bulbs with twists and turns and heads of curls
but we never were too daring with using too much energy and didn't make much noise

i needed to know you like the man needed to reach the moon
like the woman needed to find a perfect shoe
(unnecessary in reality, but extremely important in their mind)

now there's two hundred and eight six hours and forty three minutes
until the wattage dies and the sun will set