i am an hourglass, though not in form. rather voice, dripping sand and sugar, and i am waiting for you to make a decision to turn me over for a new beginning or juggle what time you have left. i’m telling you seconds now, so close. now i’m saying tower now, lightening, flame. it’s unseasonably warm because this city wants you to move out on a rainy winter day, sofa soaking up drops of january since you promised yourself the snow would be the only thing to stop you. baggage in one hand, ego in the other. like scales teetering, your fingers are trembling through each chilled breeze. your season upon us, your season pulling you towards the next town to break. you can flip this city upside down into underworld, but i will not run away. you can turn the mon into styx and i will transform myself into persephone. i will endure, i will persist, i will learn to forgive myself. this is a constant checkmate sort of game. this is a constant comet hurdling forward, drawing our wreckage into its atmosphere, suffocating the stars around it. i can’t breathe around you. i can only wait. kore watching the sun fall, eager for spring, an hourglass, impatient, with a tangent to break.
