I used to say your name and feel as if

I had front row seats to the view on top of the world,

I used to feel longing, and love,

passion, something.

That something slowly dissipated in a hourglass,

flipping the glass back and forth until

finnally the glass was left untouched, unscathed,

and the last grains of sand squeezed their way

through the clear glass;

they fell for what seemed to be eternity.

Until finally the forces of gravity caught them and

air was no longer the contiuous intervals of comforting attraction.

A short, time consuming fall,

left unable to crawl.

An accident, an opportunity,

the shattering of the glass seemed loud,

but no one stopped,

there was no crowd.

Each grain fallen, but free,

each grain visible to see,

each grain was me.

By, Shelby Dolim