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Borrowed Clockwork

borrowed-clockwork

A few years of silence were met with a single month of amplified intimacy.

“Unchained Melody” flowed through your stereo, the volume raised itself, and your courage followed suit.

You said you didn’t expect me to still say your name like that.

When I asked what you meant, you said it had remained your favorite song.

8 years ago, your name became a harvest moon prayer, and every lunar cycle since has been a divinity.

It became the X that marked my soul, and brought the treasures of knowing what it meant to be unconditionally loved.

It became the most exasperating puzzle, that always could be solved with a reassembled smile.

Now, your name is an alarm clock that rings every single minute, just to remind me there is not a single thing that is better left unsaid.

“Borrowed time” is not taken into consideration when it comes to clockwork, and I wouldn’t ask for permission to steal as much as I could with you.

When you asked if we could run away to start again with our hands intertwined, I wish I would’ve said to step on the gas instead of, “Let’s wait for summer”.

Somewhere in memories, there is a map of all the places we spoke love into existence, and all the places we were going to.

I believe if I listen hard enough in these places, the wind will carry your words back to me as a golden souvenir.

And I promise you, I’ll be listening.

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