if I could, I would fill every minute with you.
even as my hair sits graying, in my youth, and my skin becomes new and old at once,
I would sit and fill my breaths with your mouth and my hands with your skin.
as time, that bitter mistress, flew her hurried head around our ticking clocks and days,
I’d never regret those moments, for they, as you, are precious.
let the planets spin as they may around our burning sun,
and let man measure their passing, let them quantify the infinite as they must,
but let me keep you, in this moment and every moment, with me.
let me not chase you down these empty roads,
always two footsteps behind your voice that says, “I tried.”