Time is old enough.

It’s been so long since I last saw you

and the only thing that’s aged is the sound of your voice.

Your eyes still water when you smile for too long

and your hands still only reach to touch my shoulder.

Seeing you again sends memories into spotlights

and the flush of time reminds me

that you were the first girl I ever wanted.

But the days have collected themselves

and in that pile I’ve kept behind me,

only the loud ones get heard.

Those days where I’ve screamed

cover over the ones where I laughed

and ticking clocks became the mortar

between now and then,

like the space between friends

that never bothered to keep in touch.

But we still smile

and in the meaning of our movements

we’ve revived each other

with seeing in person

just how long we can survive

living in each others minds.


About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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