Let's begin
with the hourglass
Who measures time in such absurd heartbreak ways
except for humans
And why
why why why
does time entwine so closely with seasons of war and love
love and war and nothing but summer or winter

My idea
is to let sand be sand
Instead of gathering it and enclosing it in the curves
like a woman's body
like a river
like a narrow crevice through which we must pass
for what is sand
but a shaping by time
of matter into smaller matter
grain into particle
my heart in your hands
and who should measure the process with attempted enclosures
except us

What has not changed
is that I can quote myself truly in meaning
that I cannot make time slow long enough
to build and bring light to new worlds without you
before all the galaxies spin to dust
spin to sand

And this grain of love
more measurable than any clock
we can call it
red like my heart or
blue like my eyes
yellow like my smile
green like my soul

Is an offer you already consented to
the day you laced your hands with mine
taught me how to live
how my lungs were really meant
to be used

What is a dead planet
but a lull in the waves of time
a momentary chaos
before the oceans begin their moon measures

Tools for survival
are what you're searching for
but I am
on this world with you
where so much time is alotted, and no more
and I am
all you need

We are all
made of sand my love