so many
minutes
per hour
how many
purulent fears
virulent years
sorrowful tears
over one lifetime
counting seconds
defining decades
but what if
human measurement
didn't have
hands with fingers
to count things and time
no balancing feet
attached to upright legs
no twisting arms
so connected
with rotating wrists
these strangling appendages
dangling past our ribs
sometimes dancing
hands on our hips
entranced making love
with our minds and thighs
what if we had
no blatant sides
mutant insides
or attractive outsides
what if active duty
didn't depend
on fueled hunger
no tooled languages
or tongues to speak
so we reside
with cruel time
our precious moments
affectionately recounted
lovingly perhaps
each awesome scene
accounted and regarded
if we could be
more flexible
seeing in
a different way
climbing with
some righteous treatise
accompanied with that
fleeting essence
resonance with
a new fangled presence
some may say
we are tangled
in the blink
of an eye
some may think
a strangled future
as we mutually
watch and witness
time fly by
tomorrows are where
tangible dreams
live and strive
driven we're seeking perfect
given a tap and die
like a fitting screw
befitting dreams
rightly scripted
supreme and tightly knit
woven into shear existence
as real fearless time
perhaps tomorrow
as we cope
hope and want
living all
our future days
I do hope
to see and do
as we walk and talk
crossing each
Shakespearean stage
excite some
novel star-crossed play
scream when things
don't rightly fit
smile holding hands
with friendly tomorrow
perhaps some
future kiss
with a sutured past
something we
can only dream
avoiding guts full of knots
thus we hope
providence will last
like soft true love
keeping with
lofty ideals
evading horror
but sometimes
we are stalked
by tragic sorrow
yet brave time
still ticks down
we so often
naively find
counting every
prickly minute
adding up
all those trickster years
life can
either go by
prison yard slow
or fly by
carnival fast
so many things
we want to know
so many places
we want to go
if only love
hand in hand
with joy and beauty
would know enough
for true bliss to last
* * *
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