three minutes sixteen seconds,
******* in, sharp coils of
losing faith,
breath run down,
someone else's apologies,
we build or built castles,
for the wash to reclaim, smoothing out the creases.

our efforts are small, our steps are juvenile,
but, like all-consuming shades of night,
soon, this will blossom and grow,
soon, we will be but memories,
all endings, farewells and tired eyes.