Always forwards with preparation
Except this time to give chance its chance
Unexpected, the floodlit clock tower
The touch of hand on hand
In such a rush to build a past
To look forwards, to look out, for
Flashbacks of the future, memory of now
Wait; spare a moment from the cobwebs
Feel skin pressed hard against skin
Teeth bite hard into necks
Sink into softer navels
Bodies clenched tight
For fear of misunderstanding
Risk all
But do not call it desperation
Tall towers …longer views