Clock

I found myself

in that

lip lock,

losing track

of the time

-tick tock,

 as I fell off my rocker

and wound up

in your arms;

in a fuzzy state of mind,

not so calm. 

Tick

tock,

I pull back

from this

lip lock

to ask you where you’d been

all my life,

to ask you that question

through my eyes

-you know,

the one you’ve been avoiding,

-“So, are we going to try?”

You push me away

to look up at

that hanging clock,

say you got

somewhere to be,

chop chop.

And I look

into the scars

of your heart

and realize that

in the story of

you and I,

I’m always going

to be waiting.

Tick.

Tock.

                                                            ~N.V.