time alone

he is wasting time

22 in 8 days, ending a lap again

race track’s a wall clock zebra striped as the sun dips,

prison bars filter dreaming light and he is here back again

saying the same things over and over and over

underneath a cracked roof with a ceiling which threatens to collapse

inches above his dome, inches away from being roofless

secondhand runs the hour while he witnesses death second-hand

she is sleeping alone

22 in 8 days, starting a lap again

relieved to be dumped, 3 weeks was all it took,

now dreams on the edge of the double bed

reliving shadows of the time they spent

and wishes flesh would rent the space next to her

doesn’t have to be forever, just for a moment

just until the rock bears the weight of the weather