‘Afraid Of Permanent Fingerprints’

You, my lovely Little Atomic Bomb if an old bird never learned to fly would you be the one pushing it out of the nest to either soar or die? One thing to say.....

20 clocks set differently, 19 in my head, controlling the axis that's led me near where you've been and will keep me myself when I catch up to what you said

(2 scores backward to get to now doesn't seem so bad when you think about all the time intended for what we have?)

Tallying changes using the 3 arms on my goblin's pocket watch in my hand, the empty picture locket part keeps me steady as you go

Light brings dreams from the shadows lurking in my sleep, planning on creating us awake, you turn me on to dreaming happy endings instead

(I know better than to plant perennials in mayhem yet I'm sentimental to eternity with you)

When I spin out of control why am I after your what(s), and whereabouts, I end up face down on the concrete, the answer staring at me in the face

-

You, my Little Atomic Bomb living you haven't killed me yet so maybe, after all, you're actually helping me learn how to fly instead?

***Wanted a happy ending for a change so changed it up. Are poems ever really complete or always works in progress??***