I am sorry.
—
There are some sunsets
too long to hold in memories,
so I’ve taken to holding them in song
sprints.
Little hums of warmth and brightness
cascading between my fingertips as
I hold them in my hands.
-a desperate watercatch
—
Quickly now,
before they drain out
into the glassen minefields
of too soon and too sharp.
-edges always slick with the wetness of
whit gone sour.
Bound by contracts
I didn’t know
were life debts