...

time in my hands,
like a fish it seems, freely dancing
beneath the shallow waters,
to find itself lost in the deep sea.

time is timing itself, you see,
as you lay, as i lay around;
each of us having not a trace
of where we were then.

bicycle rides and popsicles,
much like my childhood
was this afternoon;
ten years under one sun
and half a popsicle
(melting in my mouth).

we lazily grazed and melted
as the sun baked our skins;
did we somehow melt as one?
i was too blinded to see.

yet, time given is time
to be taken, away from you
away from me;

now we are left a moonlight,
to seduce a dream of another sea
of time-slipping-fish-type afternoon suns,
much like our childhood's.

too much like my childhood's,
that i wish i was a kid again.