One Day

I feel like it’s been so long since I posted something.  Here’s a little poem I scribbled at work.  It’s not very good, just as a warning.

One Day

Hands locked in perpetuum mobile,
while ours, warm together,
a bubble-palm on an iced December evening.

A few seasons later,
when the pin-pricks of cold become the blinding dazzle of lights,
I locked you around me.
And with my eyes shut tight,
filling my mind with fairytales,
a prayer to whatever alien entity out there for hands to stop entirely–
to pretend the grandfather clock was broken, however temporarily–
escaped me.
And so we lay there, with time on our side.

But even in fairytales,
there is an ending:
words no longer whispered in ears;
embraces unlocked.
The insect ghosts of winter gnawing on my hands.

“This doesn’t have to be the end,” you say.
And maybe, when I can start believing in you again, I’ll believe it.
That maybe one day,
while hands are locked in perpetuum mobile,
yours will come back to mine.