motion. | completed

minus thirty-two

clasp my hands in yours and
look back at me as i stare
into your [beautiful] eyes.
and i feel every drip of the
clock and every silver crack
on your hands,
rough entities swallowing
mine.

there's calligraphy on your
heart, where i wrote my
name. when we were a little
younger and a little more
in love.

when you laughed when i laughed
and my words were ink instead
of graphite. when you let
me see every smudge on
your imperfectly sketched outline.

now you hide them under
translucent paint and mumbled
words that i don't heed because
i am too busy with the
lines you erase from me but
i must redraw on my own.