The time that I writeI'm writing while no one is listeningYet we are listening to the old sounds,When the snow falls - the old grounds are glisteningSilence prevails, no-one can hear the shadows moan from underneathmuffled in their fear, muted in their grief,I'm writing while no one is listeningIt's easier this way, when there is no impactto your footfall, not like the white floor outsidewhere you can stamp your prideand it can be seen by everyone, you're having fun,and you had it firstI'm writing while no one is listeningscared that someone would know I said it firstor last, or know I said it at all,I want to know neither the rise nor the fallof my actions, or my interactions, if anyYet it could be said that no one is listening, while I am writingashamed to see the internal fighting,of the mind, they remain blind.
What time is | Take OneNo way to measure timeMixed up in pleasure and rhymeTwo bodies, two minds,Talk about it. Think about it.Silence. Except the sound of shivering skinGlistening in the light, quivering sin.Between night and day.The sounds of dusk.The light of dawn, indulged in your musk.Work, play and sleep.Runs by so fast but the minutes creep.Your words begin and my body ends.Your fingers scatter across me, searching.The conversation extends. Rising.My eyes soak up your skin, your lips.As they chatter. And my body sings.We are lifted as with wings, with rhythm and paceBut drifting like a feather, this isn’t a race.The faster our blood runs, the slower time flowsAnd when two veins feel like one,Two bodies fall under the sunThere is no way to measure the timeWe can count only in pleasure and rhyme
What is time | second takeI can hear our pulse beat the seconds,in the room, the body, the momentat the speed of your heartas it pounds between our fingersYet sometimes lingers with the pace of my sighsRelativity is all that we have. Our bodies grow in syncwith the way they move and the way that we thinkand now our movements can help us renderwhat time is, it’s fierce and it’s tenderand what better than this animal actto bring home the fact. the feeling.the growls, the purrs, the fight, the flightusing our touch, our hearing, our sightThought’s can’t stray faror time will float awayand what is life without time, only night and day.