clockwork.

like clockwork springs up in time and winter spring's up with her.

she dances in the white outside, says it keeps her warm

so long as she never ever stops to breathe.

says she steps off time sometimes

not off-beat, off time sometimes

with her left foot anchored in '86

and her right tip-toeing 'round right...now.

what with all the spinning

she drops here somewhere

in the cracks

between warped floorboards

beneath her soul

and the soles of her feet

and if you want to watch her

be still i mean coma still

and she might not spot you.

me, i'd rather be seen.

she found me in a cupboard of time called never

right beside when hell freezes over and october twentieth

gazing back at her. i smiled and offered myself up

here i am you found me i'm yours

she took me out

and studied me like an antique doll

and held me, let me spin in her hands,

sketched a history of us and a song about a crane

into the blank of my back

and put me back.

i'm back

out of sight, out of mind, out of time

but if you find that drawer the one cracked and chipped and worn

having been slammed over and over and over,

open it.

like an antique

i like to think i appreciate in value

over time

even just a little.

we all do.

some things such as human beings

are not disposable.

she skips six months and i can't taste the coffee over small talk.

no. it hasn't been awhile.

i've carried you in my eyelids

and when i blink i see your hips

and yes. i've lost some weight.

i've taken up running

away from this kind of conversation

and i've cut my mile time in half

and yes. i miss you now

but still carry the bruise from when we hit,

settled on my ribs in the shape of a heart

and it still hurts and i still cry

sometimes.

and you still sway on the backs of minutes and hours

and break off the hands of a clock,

using them to catch those white seconds falling

in the shape of snowflakes, oh god don't let them go

'cause seconds sometimes last for minutes and minutes for hours

if you hold them right, so gather them now

but when you're done,

i think i'm ready for you to come back inside.

only if you want.

and you will age and it will hurt.

but it's warmer in here.