Content with tiny glories

that meanly shine from my room

I speak to you of travels

That we pass through too soon.

 

If we try to clench the moment

 

we smash it in our fists.

 

Like rocks that yield no water,

 

Time knows well, "Resist."

 

 

As flashing days that lap

 

upon my window fast

 

I beg —— let’s fabricate memories

 

to breed the Now with Past.

 

 

Landmarks of detention

voluntarily paid

breathe from lung to lip.

They touch our skinny places

with pity lightly weighed

and linger not a moment

as they break us into days.