• Gazing up at the dirty grey sky, the endless clouds, cut here and there with the golden slivers of sunlight.
    And the universe moves in it's unending spiral, forever onward and outward, and I'll sit and gaze into that void,
    the unending expanse of it all, littered with burning stars.
    Become enraptured, entrapped, enthralled and know that for the little time I have to be here, to exist within it all, that I have time enough.

    I have time enough to take my cold bare hand so that I may feel your heat.
    The heat of your soul, my own burning soul, the firelight reflected in your eyes.
    Keep up with the passion, the twisting, turning of bodies,
    Intertwined.
    Weaving little fires, sparks wrapping themselves so tightly into fabric, they'll never let go.
    I need to feel the pulse in your neck, before I become scared, hear the rhythm of your heart's thumping against your chest,
    as my hands press down on you,
    as you push back,
    Protect me for I am so very small.
    I fear.
    I fear we've run out of time.
    Until lips drag over moist skin,
    glimmering in the midlight of the early morning, or is it late night.
    I've lost track.
    Of time.
    Time doesn't matter, I have time enough.

    We have it all.
    The longest thing we'll ever do is hold,
    arms tightly wrapped into each other,
    grabbing fabric and flesh.
    Caressing with featherlight fingers,
    before peppering with soft spoken kisses barely even there,
    but more there than the words they mean.

    Because the kisses, the grabbing, the grinding, says it all.
    But brought together by the words.
    The words we say over and over, and over and over.
    The meaning of the touch, the sighs, the late night cries.

    The clock running,
    the minute hand ticking down to morning light.
    A new day.
    We have all the days.
    No one is alone in this great swirling mass of chaos.
    We all have time enough, all that's needed is to ignore the clock.

    And we'll have time enough.