Time drips slowly down kitchen walls
Like thick strawberry jam left to cook too long on the stove,
Boiling over.
Silence that isn't really silence reigns the gaps between each whisper of breath and tick of the clock and soft roar of raindrops on the street,
Heavy silence pressing on my shoulders,
Grey like the clouds, smooth and supple
As bare skin at midnight,
Rich, like good chocolate that leaves a sharp aftertaste.
Kitchen walls, soaked in summer memories, green like summer foliage,
Air trapped in damp and warm confusion inside windows streaked with rain,
Eyes that stare too long before glancing away too quickly.
Watching.
Waiting for two hearts to
Acknowledge
Each other.