That Dreadful Ticking

Of wasted opportunities and lost courage. Typical.

The minute hand conducted
Symphonies of wordless moments

And etched an expiration date into
Our bones and every move we made.

Hours, days, weeks flutter by
And I just want to see you again.

You said we'd keep in touch
But we never touched enough.

Now the lines blur
Between here and there;

And you're neither.