When I wake up,
I've lost 13 hours—
already
Strange how a day forms with a story;
not by hours
At times I listen to a song
over and over; though it makes me
forget time, the memories remain—
As if they were never meant to be ours;
long lost tales
drifting far into the air
Striking minutes
days
then years
belong merely to those
who count them most
Stay here,
in a still morning
untouched by light