Measuring Hours


It’s funny how

this same sound can make

us feel the same things

in different ways

on different sides of the world


The moments where time stopped

but no

I shouldn’t say


I should say

I held it in my hand

afraid what it could do on its own

those hours when

the sky felt like a beast I could tame

those hours I would pin down

if you asked me to tell you my story


An hour of laughter,

dawn breaking,

breaking like a voice

when I once had you.




Once I wore my heart

on my sleeve

and I thought

I would never be able

to share my clothes with you

hang myself from your windows


But really

we are just

different versions

of the same thing


and today old truths

often spill from long limbs

as I climb to your welcome again

and you say hello like

I have never heard it before

and you want it to be the sweetest word

so sweet I might not think it’s my language


I can’t help but think

dragging my happiness around

that if I let it

off its leash

it would only follow me here

like someone else’s secret.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 6/28/19

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