For Time

We all fumble
in the sheer darkness
of the speed of one day’s time.

How were we supposed to know
at the breach of our birth
that we were meant to breathe deeply,
let our skin flush with life at that inhalation

and never stop running
for the grave of all clocks
would be nipping at our heels?

This shadow;
this coaxing back,

the ticking
of a vintage
taste of wine

disappears at the tip
of our tongues

and with the ceasing
of all laughter.