Z
zay
Guest
it’s a slow day,
a fly buzzes through the lunch room,
over people having lunch, lost in conversation.
It lands on a clock, that is synchronized
with the lazy clouds that float
gently with the leaves that wander
by the window,
blown by the restless wind, and into my imagination
like the checkerboard floor resting under our feet,
everything is black and white.
absolute, as the bubbles in my soda.
in the glass, I see your reflection.
I almost see a tear fall,
which breaks the silence, but not the distance
as I stare, waiting for connection
the fly touches your hand, but I can’t
you brush it away, and look out the window.
I see the gray clouds in your eyes,
it’s the reason I secretly love you,
but it’s also why, we’re so far away.
For an instant, time seems to stop.
And for years, it’s you being you, and me being me
but I wonder, if I’m just one question away
from breaking that clock, and running
hand in hand with you, into eternity
I look down at my soda, and watch
out the corner of my eye, the fly
going past us, through our silence, and over restless conversations
flying through the air, and back onto the clock
as time goes back in sync
locked in this place of black and white
with color waiting to burst,
finally, I look out the window to see what you see.
I glare beyond the sleepless leaves, into the clouds.
And dawn finally breaks, with light flooding the checkerboard floor
in vivid resolution and timeless love. As I finally say, I love you.
a fly buzzes through the lunch room,
over people having lunch, lost in conversation.
It lands on a clock, that is synchronized
with the lazy clouds that float
gently with the leaves that wander
by the window,
blown by the restless wind, and into my imagination
like the checkerboard floor resting under our feet,
everything is black and white.
absolute, as the bubbles in my soda.
in the glass, I see your reflection.
I almost see a tear fall,
which breaks the silence, but not the distance
as I stare, waiting for connection
the fly touches your hand, but I can’t
you brush it away, and look out the window.
I see the gray clouds in your eyes,
it’s the reason I secretly love you,
but it’s also why, we’re so far away.
For an instant, time seems to stop.
And for years, it’s you being you, and me being me
but I wonder, if I’m just one question away
from breaking that clock, and running
hand in hand with you, into eternity
I look down at my soda, and watch
out the corner of my eye, the fly
going past us, through our silence, and over restless conversations
flying through the air, and back onto the clock
as time goes back in sync
locked in this place of black and white
with color waiting to burst,
finally, I look out the window to see what you see.
I glare beyond the sleepless leaves, into the clouds.
And dawn finally breaks, with light flooding the checkerboard floor
in vivid resolution and timeless love. As I finally say, I love you.