When I came over to your apartment
a couple of days ago
We pushed the couch to face the wall,
and tipped the lamp over
making it a projector for our hand's silhouettes in the light.
I taught you to speak in a Liverpool accent
Your voice glazed my ears like honey
dripping sweet vowels
Carrying your breath
To disperse in the air around us,
like fog.
And I feared that if I should touch
The glaze you left me
I would smear the sugar
and muffle the sounds.
But you spoke to me.
You spoke to me with your hands
casting shadows like magic
Speaking of time being a string
and we walk across it.
All of the time that ever has been.
And you stopped.
You stopped waving magic around.
You stopped casting pretty shadows.
You looked at me and asked me
if I would go back.
No I wouldn't. I'd be an elephant on a tightrope
Weighing the tiny string down
Walking across time,
Nimble toes
Forward, or backward.
Whichever way you are going. I could follow.