The step of time..
does not exist in itself.
We are the step of time.
All-father titan Kronos
lives within ourselves..
and not within the silent
trickling of sand.
Because the hourglass
is not The One
perceiving us..
it’s neither alive
nor is it dead.
Rather it is
an aspect of The All
perceived by us,
instead.

That which precedes us
isn’t real..
it’s meaningless..
a heap of nothing..
until it’s something
that somebody
somewhere
either indirectly
or directly recollects.
The future isn’t waiting for us,
patiently, to reach it..
It’s paid for by our present
moments..
However many of them
we have left.

To behold your beauty,
with my naked eyes,
upon a peaceful height..
may be a present
I was never meant
to properly receive.
But through the imprint
left by you
upon my twisted mind..
it may still manifest itself
in all its naked glory..
within me.

But only if I dream of you
tonight.. if not, however,
shed no salty tears
on my behalf..
another might.