Time’s Empty Passing
Several night’s sleep have been
interrupted by sounds of love making
there way up Aro Valley
Desk bound, betwixt awake,
attempting to unlock phrases such as
meta regression analysis, dummy
variable, and kurtosis as the
forth moment of distribution my heart still
aches.
To be back in love,
to give another total control,
to be the one lost between bad breath,
and moaning at four in the morning.
And though my heart still aches,
you say hello and look me in the eye,
Stumble awkwardly out the men’s
bathroom and wave (for what else are
we supposed to do?), ask questions
when I’m busy or when it’s too loud.
Time passes, but less its empty
thanks to small encounters.
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