clandestiny

walden freeman

i'm afraid
we don't have the time it takes
to fix this clock

and i'm afraid
i'm not
a frayed not hanging on

and my bones have
this crush
on yours

as we move
as you walk
i firmly believe
your body is a map
of a long-forgotten
constellation
burning comets
so intent on melting
that they move around you
like my hands would
if they could survive the cold