When no one watches, things lie close to themselves.
The water fills back to its line.
Dust won’ t fall.
Yesterday and today, the same.
So I tipped a spoonful toward the dark
just to hear something fall.
This is how the heat crossed me—
what I keep is only what leaked out.
I remember you
because I once owed you what I can’ t take back.
I’ m alive because something
is leaving me, and won’ t come back.
One notch on the clock—
one more thing I let go.
The clock was never on the wall.
The clock is me, setting a thing down
where I won’ t look again.
And the light is on.
No one can finish this line.
The sky is written full, nothing left over—
only here,
this moment is lit,
and no equation says it should be.
If one day I seal myself shut,
the water filling on its own,
I’ ll forget how to count the days.
Then, from outside—
owe me once.
Let time fall back into me.
Let time fall back into me.
Owe me once.
Let time fall back into me.