Reach

and time is stilled
ticking stopped
breath inheld
to the last drop 
of sweat, and weeks pass
in a concave curve
to a long, shallow bottoming-out
of edges rising to a point - then
the breath let go
and ticking starts
the cuckoo prises
open doors
sweat dries

all hell breaks loose
the bells are rung, the people
cheer, the doves released
and her heart pumps the seconds
fearful of their stop, of the minus
the retraction that takes him
back from where he
came - too soon, too soon -
for the imprint in the palm
wears off and hairs rise
on the arm for there is no
hand to press them down

a disembodied voice across a distance says
hallo
and one mere word down a wire is not
enough connection to a heart
deprived so long
of reasons
to beat 
at all

here is too much
both in hand and out of reach
again the breath let go
the ticking starts
the cuckoo prises open doors
sweat dries 
and hairs press flat as you touch my arm

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