I forget summertime as it passes by
a drought and a blessing,
its heat a familiar blanket pressing on my skin.
A shell against all the blinding bright light
outside an iridescent bubble of mind-numbing days
as they morph into a slow creature, then
a fast one,
time an inescapable sadness,
Yet love is an exclusive red carpet reserved for
humanity and humanity only,
trying to imitate something that cannot be caught
in a lense or in a word
in the end it is love that drags all your mascara down,
hands greedy, longing, wanting,
I don’t think I can take this anymore
I can’t, I can,
“Godspeed” as you leave the dock
to some other world,
some other place,
some other reality
where the catch of time fails to reach.
I am time, your hands the ticking of a clock.
[notes of finality calling for tears to run
as the screen fades to black] with you in an unreachable
sailing into a bleeding dawn or dusk.
This poem serves to capture the nostalgia and sadness that comes with recalling memory. I feel that the last few lines aren't that good but they fit into the theme of the poem.