Anticipatory heart beating in every limb, suspenseful marrow through every bone, the water of life in every vein. Breathing techniques to slow the pace of the unrelenting hands of the clock, one big and one small, just like us. Days spent half awake, walking half asleep, breathing half a lung, reading one half of the book you never finished writing. Chairs on steps on porches in neighborhoods where people drink coffee all afternoon long, into the lazy evenings straight up until dawn. Flirting with an idea, getting cozy with a concept. Lights on, it's nighttime and we can't see each other from this far away. Dim in the distance the resounding beat, far out of reach the callused hands that wish to be held. Gentle wind whips the screen off the front door and into the yard, a tornado of lawn chairs and vegetable planters and a baby stroller. You're the only thing that keeps me grounded, without you my hands would be in the clouds.
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