there's rhythms unsung that swim in your eyes
screaming something, boring into my soul.
i try to hear it but it's too far,
it's like a hint of flashlight through the fog
wish we could lay here and play with words
wish we could hear and speak together
wish you had a voice
and i had the patience
i open my palm, unsurprised at what i find
two broken clock hands that sit there
their broken ends piercing the skin
wish the air grew thin and
time went slow
wish there was a fire for this snow.
