If that bell tolls one more time
I’ll rip it’s clock work out.
What does a man do with
all these hours in a day?
How do you fill them with meaning?
What is the meaning?

Tomorrow I will lay next to you,
breathing in the air
knowing home and love
and life and hope.
Knowing you.

There are raindrops racing each
other down my window pane.
I have these pictures, some are
of us, some are of places,
most are of you.

Tomorrow I will caress your hair.
I will fix the sheets on your bed,
rub your feet.
I will listen to your day,
and you will listen to mine.

Tonight (******* it tonight!)
I keep the time without you.
I hate the clock, I hate the light bulbs,
I hate the way your smile doesn’t
light up your eyes in pictures.

Tonight I’m on fire,
burning to ash and bone.
Tomorrow I will rise.
Reborn.