this hour, this minute sometimes this second
time, I stand alone immersed in it,
time has control,
I do not.
whatever the moment pushed forward, resistant poof-
carried me.
My voice lost in the moving minutes,
yesterdays words,
tomorrows
now.
Words that flail, falling words,
coursing through my brain,
pushing outward,
to the spans of time.
Only my echo is heard
pushed away
this second,
this minute,
now.
