Both hands of clocks,
on each passing hour,
clap childishly,
at the hour precise,
thinking, enigmatic time
was caught,
and arrested for ever,
at long last.
                    But  in every chime
we really hear, the gleeful laughter
of elusive time.

she planted secrets once
potted them with fresh
soil and watched them
grow, they were never

weeds

I want to be

so

very





far away





from

here.


Far from the barns and bumble bees.
Far from the cornfields and cows.
Far from the dirt roads and ducks.

I love all these things.
But I want to run very




far away.


It’s never been more difficult to breath the country air.
It’s never been more difficult to forget the speed of passing time.
It’s never been more difficult to… exist.

I cherish this place.
I will hold it in my heart,
When I disappear to somewhere very



far away.

A finger, gently approaching
it's owner's counterpart.

A hand and it's twin,
enclosed around a waist, locked
around hips and wrists.

An arm wrapped over another's torso,
concealing the chill of night,
as two shoulders meet.

A neck, kissed by a lover's breath,
which trails from lips, snaking towards
the curve of a red smile.

Two tongues, caught in the fervor
of passion and darkness, that lights
a flame in their cheeks.

Lashes scraping noses with the flutter
of an eyelid; eyes embrace their sight
as they open.