What I Know About Time

To have been together through disco
and then to fall asleep
together on a rainy night
behind a rainy window
at some New Year in the nineties ——
that would have been an act of love.
Having missed disco, I wander
through your house

where no two clocks show 
the same time; they lose me 
between the rooms, 
as if I’m shaking
time from my shoulders
like a towel at the beach.
Except every room is water,
deeper in every direction.




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