The days are longer since we've met.
Each minute stretched farther than the next.
The band of seconds holding together
are warmed by my desire to see you.
Though I fear the minute will break,
stretched thin by ceaseless yearning,
cooled by your persistent absence,
only allowed to relax when we finally see each other.
As the clock ticks,
the space between each are tense,
always in danger of shattering.
An impatient finger tapping,
widening the web of cracks.
I live in fear of watching the shards
of seconds fall to the floor.
Lost to the universe,
to the finite time I have here.
I can only despair imagining the time without you.
These days are long.
The minutes stretched far too thin.
And I hang on the hope that you'll afford me