I like the way the word time
feels in my mouth
how it passes tongue and lips
crisp at one end
soft and delicious
at the other
Time
It’s a mouthful of moments
prepared by epiphany
savored by appetite
seasoned by memory and dreams
Though it may seem otherwise
there is never a wrong time
like there is never a wrong love
yet, until you’re over your past
you can never be present
You can nibble away at time
like a guest at the banquet of creation
but time is not love
Love must be swallowed whole
