It’s a little loss.
Getting older.
One more day.
How much is one day
supposed to matter?
The sky is a little darker 
at 6pm
on one side 
the other. I wonder
how much time 
I gave
the sun.
A father who rushes
home from work to
a sleeping child.
The horizon splits 
only minutes in 
this productive
I am rotating 
around you. You
are stable. 
It is our requirement. 
with possibilities I 
don’t allow 
myself to feel.
Everything is 
doing exactly what
it is they 
are doing 
at 10am on Tuesday.
A makeup-less face.
Fearless insecurities.
Graceful powerlessness.
To what is,
in daylight.