An Impression of Now

The first time a word’s impressed on my ear, it might leave a mark but never a mold. It takes a second listening for that sculpting to hold, but even then I’ll buckle my tongue before repeating the thing.

So what can I say if I get weird because you held my hand? I’ve counted by paned streetlight each vertebra stacking you together.

Not once, but twice.

I didn’t mean to remember everything you said to me. I just can’t let it go, not now, not yet, because maybe someday I’ll need this, and I’d rather count a third time in the dark than tell you that someday’s today.

Nature hates waste, anyway.

One thought on “An Impression of Now

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s