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 with the thought of looking
For flashbacks in the future, to have a view of a memory of now
How; wait, spare this moment from the cobwebs
Feel skin pressed hard against skin
Teeth bite hard into necks and into softer navels
Bodies clenched tight
In fear of misunderstanding we risk all
But do not call it desperation
Fall instead towards, or into deeper love
Tall towers, careful hands, warm breezes
Admire the ever longer, ever lighter views
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