when you touch me (mold me)
I fight the urge to look at my watch
             the impulse to check for ticking
             the slinking feeling that time has stopped

and when you kissed me (and kissed me)
it was like yesterday never ended
             like the space you occupied never emptied
             like this moment was the only one there ever was

yet, when you leave again (but not for good)
             the space doesn't feel so hollow

when you left this time (as I knew you would)
             I still remained

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