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Description
i scuff at sidewalk bottle caps,
mouthing your name as i pass shriveled milkweed stalks and snuffed-out cigarettes.
once, the clock hands pointed north. they mock me now with each degree elapsed,
each angle pointing to a slew of compass-rose regrets.

mouthing your name as i pass shriveled milkweed stalks and snuffed-out cigarettes,
i hear the second hand’s advance tally my silences like rosary beads,
each angle pointing to a slew of compass-rose regrets.
if only i could pull your name from this unmerciful stampede!

i hear the second hand’s advance tally my silences like rosary beads.
every dull tock measures out those quinine conversations, sly unripened smiles, and yet i know
if only i could pull your name from this unmerciful stampede,
the cobwebs binding me to mute labyrinths of time might let me go.

every dull tock measures out those quinine conversations, sly unripened smiles, and yet i know
your redwood hands could be the ones to rescue me, and then
the cobwebs binding me to mute labyrinths of time might let me go…
oh, how can i speak when these dark flocks of raven-fears still cluster in my mind like minutemen?

your redwood hands could be the ones to rescue me, and then –

once, the clock hands pointed north. they mock me now with each degree elapsed.
oh, how can i speak when these dark flocks of raven-fears still cluster in my mind like minutemen?
i scuff at sidewalk bottle caps.

Description
i scuff at sidewalk bottle caps,
mouthing your name as i pass shriveled milkweed stalks and snuffed-out cigarettes.
once, the clock hands pointed north. they mock me now with each degree elapsed,
each angle pointing to a slew of compass-rose regrets.

mouthing your name as i pass shriveled milkweed stalks and snuffed-out cigarettes,
i hear the second hand’s advance tally my silences like rosary beads,
each angle pointing to a slew of compass-rose regrets.
if only i could pull your name from this unmerciful stampede!

i hear the second hand’s advance tally my silences like rosary beads.
every dull tock measures out those quinine conversations, sly unripened smiles, and yet i know
if only i could pull your name from this unmerciful stampede,
the cobwebs binding me to mute labyrinths of time might let me go.

every dull tock measures out those quinine conversations, sly unripened smiles, and yet i know
your redwood hands could be the ones to rescue me, and then
the cobwebs binding me to mute labyrinths of time might let me go…
oh, how can i speak when these dark flocks of raven-fears still cluster in my mind like minutemen?

your redwood hands could be the ones to rescue me, and then –

once, the clock hands pointed north. they mock me now with each degree elapsed.
oh, how can i speak when these dark flocks of raven-fears still cluster in my mind like minutemen?
i scuff at sidewalk bottle caps.