H[our] glass

hourglass

I remember like an hourglass.

Each moment, everything you did,
everything you said,
is a grain of sand.

Each grain, each inch of life, is stored,
falling through the space
between memories
and the promise of tomorrow.

Every single smile, laugh and tear
are the beginnings
of the glass I smashed
when I grieved for our yesterdays.

A collective conscious, waiting,
craving, to be filled
and turned over again.

I remember like an hourglass.

 

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