you could pretend
there’s all the time left in the world
to hold a hand
or watch her toes curl
that days are slow
in their release of hours,
there’s always one more left,
one final hour.

but time is running
and you’re quick to follow
memories are blurring
because days are slipping
and summer will become one long day,
where you started a different person,
a long day where you did everything
where you lost a thousand people
who you’d never dreamed of losing
where you found
and fought
for a thousand more
who you now dream of keeping.

if only time wasn’t running
and we were sitting
in the busy restaurant forever
or laying in an adopted bed
or wearing jumpers you never own
or driving along the infinite country roads.
we are all pretending that
another hour will follow
time is running
and we wish we could walk along forever.