Time Is My Mistress

04 Sep


Time is a non sequitur companion;
she does not question my motives,
she does not debate my opinions,
she does not give lien to indecision,
she does not offer advice, nor hope,
she does not know my sense of wonder,
she does not affect my maturing, and
she does not have urgency in my age.

Time simply lives, for her own sake;
she is the universal measure of pain,
she is the free will of the soul to fly,
she is the distinction of stars above,
she is the implementation of unrest,
she is the progression of an era to be,
she is the uneasiness in a first kiss,
she is the air I breathe each day, yet
she is the brevity of a passing moment.

Time is my wanton cohort and mentor;
I chase her across the field in a game,
I sleep with her by my side at night,
I feast on her misgivings as carnal foes,
I bathe in her caress while in my leisure,
I speak to her whispered words of love,
I make love to her, and waken renewed,
I curse her for her constant abuse, yet
I beg her comfort when I have none left.

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Posted by on September 4, 2015 in My Poetry



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