I am curved against this space I fill.

I am bent to each second of time I exist,

curved against the weight.

 

I am curved to the infinite possibilities of

light.

 

I know time by the light.  Dove gray near

morning.  Slate gray at the end of the night.

As red as blood is red in the morning.

 

Time would not move from the loss of this.

 

Light is caught in your hair, caught in your

eyes.  I would see light now at this moment

and forever.  Time would not move

from the loss of this.

 

Time does not move from the infinite

possibilities of light.