The clocks were asleep
and your fingers were twisted
in knots on your lap as I whistled cold air and
they didn't know what to do so they just
slumbered.

I didn't want
to offend you by
speaking too softly and singing too loudly
when the moon came tumbling through
the plastic window frame.

You grabbed me and held me
and I counted goldfish
swimming in cellophane bags.
They fought and they struggled
their chipped scales fluttered but they'd be
dead my morning.

You were there and
now's the time.