when it finds the time and brings about the moment when the lines are drawn clearly in the sand, i'll hold your hand one last time and bring the beginning of something new

how the moon
knocks away
the day
so your eyes
reason the
meaning
of a part of me
left unexposed
for so long
in the trials of
modern malignancy
that time stood
stupid
in the traps
of my soul.

so slow
the movement
of years
gone tripping by
in a flash
and every memory
of you
is a memory of me
but the situation
changed
and there was nothing
more to say.

if it had been different,
would the plague
of years lessened
the misery?

a hundred thousand
feet apart...
meter by meter,
yard by yard,
and still thinking
of one another
in a way that brings
us together
as if we were
sitting
in the same room,
sipping cocktails
and wondering
what happened to
the future.

maybe i turned around.
maybe we said
what we meant.
maybe the end
wasn't the end
and all the time past
wasn't the last
words
we ever spoke.

time couldn't cope
with what we were,
and where we are
is all but swallowed up
in the thick
of a better ending
to a new beginning.

so fuck
every second
we're apart.