If you think time waits for no one,
I am going to try to change your mind.
Sometimes, my watch slows down time itself.
Our days and nights are separated by distance,
Your skies a different blue from mine.
A word from that end is all it takes to transport me to your nights.
It’s days like these that time remains immaterial,
As if nothing mattered – neither mind, nor matter nor me.
I wake to the sounds of my own days,
While you rest to your smoggy nights.
My watch, still on my wrist, takes time to come back.
The dials are stuck in your days and nights.
My days, your nights.
Your nights and my days.
Always ticking away from,