The Race

the time leading up to my departure was always dreary

we made sure we were touching at all times

but we didn’t say much

I took in the deepness of your voice

the chiseled shape of your jaw

the softness of your touch

three weeks in your arms was not long enough,

yet it already felt like home

we didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that we would

soon be separated by the universe

but time always catches up

in fact,

time doesn’t only catch up,

time wins.

time trails you slowly from behind

and lets you forget about its threatening presence

until your mind is nearly clear

you can almost see the finish line in the distance

happiness, dreams, love

until suddenly

time begins getting closer to you

and closer

and closer

with a few swift moves,

time is on your heels,

and then next to you

and then time is in front of you

hurtling towards the finish line

leaving you in the dust

then you’re lying on the ground

confused and unmotivated to finish this race

which has already been won.

now I must hear your voice through my phone

see your face in my pictures

and imagine your touch in my head

until I’ve returned to your arms

where we will race against time

once more

even though we both know

we will not be victorious