50 minutes of bliss.4 minute increments.
Hit it, snap it, shut it down.
240 seconds of somber again.
I don't recall the first time.
I only know now I cannot go back.
Sun rising, I am not. I lie still.
I jump back inside of the dream.
A fantasy of Clint E and I smooching.
So real, so vivid and then the sound blares once more.
I pound a paw and silence all over again.
Seconds ticking by as if in pudding and I so unaware.
Then the stroke of a long thin black hand against the soldier known only as 7.
No longer can I put it off,
cannot hit the bar one more time.
Air escapes my lips and Clint is gone, now only me.
I rise, stretch, yawn, prepare.
A day present, beckoning to tell me now it is here.
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