when time sits with me comfortably
i forget i was ever thirteen - even twenty
she is someone i can barely hold
her laughter is made of stuff purer than precious gold

when time sits with me comfortably
i despair at the thought of being thirty
she is someone i can barely hold
her dreams are the dinner table food i left out and gotten cold

when time sits with me comfortably
i feel like i am choking from inside out, endlessly
but to think on it too much makes the suffering unending
and before i sleep, i think what i feel isn’t pain but understanding