Poetry

Snatched Moment in a Long Day

Toes touching, noses pressed close,

magnets in our hearts.

The clock is ticking,

great eyes of the sly shadow

on our backs,

a whisper away from

coiling its tendrils around our ankles

to drag us apart.

We form our circle, arm in arm,

our energy like salt

casting the cursed presence aside.

A beat more.

A beat more, and our lips touch.

A beat more, and we are.

We are, we are, we are.

Nothing can break us.