No.106: A Soft-Handed Time Slayer

The hours, the minutes, the seconds--
every day they yell.
But in your presence, 
time mutes itself. 
Days, months, years go by.

If it were anyone else,
I would call it a waste. 
Unwise. Inefficient.
For you
are a destroyer of schedules,
a reaper of plans, a doomsday of calendars,
a soft hand on the head of a bullet train, 
you are the end of all agendas,
and yet,

it is only a fool who would hesitate
to sacrifice all his seconds and hours
for a life of silent, unorganized, extravagantly wasted time
with you.

Cover Photo by Matheus Ferrero on Unsplash