(*i want my time with you)


i had just read a brief history of time. remember that night? cosmic vertigo took hold of my insides, i quit cigarettes that instant, i crushed my last pack and i declared, to you, that death takes everything.
stephen hawking explained: the universe will have an end just as it has a beginning. so having no more time to waste i told you i loved your face more than any other faces and if there was to be even the tiniest trace of me left behind i wanted it to be the way i felt for you that night.

you blew smoke rings from stitched lips, and i talked in circles around you. bleary and bloodshot our eyes closed. you maybe never read stephen hawking but i know we both ran like bandits from sleep.


earthy smell of marijuana permeated your beard and seasoned our tongues. *omitted, wasn’t it really something? being young and together the way we were. smoke stacked to the ceiling and the lamp glow casted halogen haloes around our heads. don’t you agree how.


*darling, i love you so desperately, when i gaze upon your full moon face i feel the spread of my pupils pulling wide, letting in too much of your angelic light. i embrace the pressure of your body’s presence compressing the very fabric of my marrow as you contort me to your will.

though i don’t dare profess that your tender love, the love only i know, the love that when lost inspired so many insipid diary notes, has ever mended a single bone, yet somehow with one kiss, your touch heals my entire soul; fills the emptiness that swells my chest as if my heart had never broke.


though my brain wanders like tidal waves towards you and my limbs crash like the branches of trees, as today my fingers grasp the empty, missing your touch like the winter misses spring leaves. i know, we were a season, and there is a whole life left ahead for us to live alone.

still the movements of time and her changing seasons, this bitter wisdom that has come from age and grace, nor these emotions that crash like waves cannot keep me from reminiscing so sweetly how we spent entire days and nights: undressed, wearing only bedspreads, spread across one another; how the always sun came up too soon…

*darling, i want more time with you.

*six pm

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