time*
it flies in your presence
like a homing pigeon
back to me, only
when you're here
filling time with me
talking like we've known
known what its like to live
with and without each other
the latter isn't as pleasant
i suffer, like not breathing
holding air under the water
looking out and around
it screams within me, burns
we've been waiting some
waiting for the perfect time
when the stars finally align
to be together for a while
then it becomes beautiful
the war inside me slows
then stops, calms, breaths
the guns stop battering me
the bombs cease to impale
the birds fly, unafraid
taking time under its wing
like my homing pigeon
back to me.