Time is water, the liquid slaughter of hope. No matter how control is exerted, the seconds would slip through the cracks of our moments together, collecting in pools on the other side of our desire to remind that this joy was finite. I tried to deny myself rest, wanted to halt any physical need beyond making love to you, but the hourglass sands fainted despite even the most passionate attempts at slowing their fall.
I wanted to lock us in a photocell and toss the key and all reason into corrosive fantasy so we would forever be locked in the amber light of this still frame, our lips forever merged, our sex permanent perfection. No need for breath or food or water, we would nurture each other with the swell of our souls as they wrapped together, night finally embracing day, an impossible fiction made flesh, a love awaited for lifetimes and suddenly realized.
But time flowed regardless, the notion of freezing it destroyed by the heat of this reality, so we hungrily consumed each tick of the clock even as we paid it little mind, eyes choked with saltwater despite celebrating each course to exhaustion. We gorged ourselves on these shared hours, filling our spirit with a bliss unexpected, irrational and so ferociously powerful that it blasted apart the course of two hearts, mended them together and rewrote expectations for the future as well as the records of history. For though it is water, time flows into a vast ocean of unlimited possibility that cares nothing for rules, flattening our experience so that these precious shared instants can live endlessly across memory, nourished by overwhelming affection that robs all else of reason.
In the sea of thought, time drowns.
My hands permanently grip at you, leaving the colors of dusk under fingertips. My eyes forever held by the dark allure of your own as I move above you. Your lips part eternally at the heights of ecstasy, and I chase away with the fury of my love everything else, present or past or future that threatens to steal you from me.
I seize you here even as I’m powerless to reverse the demands of promises made without knowledge of us, time always both villain and savior as it brought us together and tears through our hold, returning us at specific hours to common practice. I would slay it as it does me each excruciating eon I spend apart from your embrace, but in my mind’s ocean, it has already died and I move inside you bathed in the endless blood of hours, minutes and seconds that baptize us into a faith in nothing but our perfect bond.
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"My hands permanently grip at you, leaving the colors of dusk under fingertips." So much THAT.