Is a toy in the hands
Of the broken-hearted.
Dearly departed, fleeting
Smile: wait just a while and
Try to remember feelings
Embers of passion gone by. Time
Flies in the face of progression.
(Or is it
Infinitesimal steps, new
Inflections, early detection, genuflection
Discreet and incautious. It’s making me
Nauseous, all this palaver; wouldn’t you rather