LOVE IS AN HOURGLASS

time is what you wish for but do
not treasure when it is placed into
the palm of your hands.
flowing, steady,
you breathe
haggardly
. .
. .
. .
. .
. .
. .
hold still,
do not move
a single muscle until all of the
sand has settled and you do not
let a single grain fall through the gaps
of your slender, shivering, still fingers.