tick                     *tick
             tock                    tock
The clock strikes twelve
And I delve
Into thoughts
I thought I forgot
But here they are
Gold and marred
Crying and dying for
I can save but one before
They're gone

We can't go backwards
But if we could it would be
To that very night

Holding each other
Time standing still
And a blissful,
Extremely tender
Loving innocence
Surrounding us

No passion
Just simple love
Where a simple touch
Can sing a hundred songs

Why can't we have meaningless talk
the way people have meaningless ***-
you would crash over me into a
river of un-scathing emptiness
and leave marks on my skin-
stories that this was where
you started to tear at
the seams
effortlessly
like the silkness
of your sorrows on my floor.

You would become a sultry verse
in this anthology of every day
lodged between the rush and
vacancy of broken hearts
and anguished limbs.

You would radiate the heat
of your angry, angry heart onto
the cold deadness of mine,
and we could burn and melt
all at the same time.

Meaninglessly you would leave
me out of breath,
gather your clothes
and go home.