there has to be a way to explain all i feel
and maybe to feel all that i try to explain
i sit here counting the hours
watching the minutes pass and taking note

a metaphysical accountant
tallying the thoughts, words and ideas
that pass by like so many i wish i knew better

but you know
who you are
and who i am

it was you after all who gave it to me
that one summer night
on the hay bale
where we watched the sun try to decide whether it was
day or night

maybe that wasn’t you but it should have been
maybe it still can be
i think time is elastic
and i don’t think it matters which way you go
as long as you move forward

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