Too Much Time Is What I Need to Find My Way

Unfaded affections, return from somewhere
Pictures made of paper
Minds left carved in aged dirt sing
Living moments held in things I understand

Wheels rolling, still and ever
Stillness in motion, I see
Figures in my hands and miles to walk to find their names
Tactile minutes feel like no time's past at all

Illuminations made for no one
Sensations of the mind left to disperse
Go again

Temptation towards the hidden choices
Still means as much as things we all should see

Scripts, still old, still seeing
Speech, I know you're breathing
Feel, once, so, fine

Machines of their time, breathed
Affections through them, then
Parts, placed all about in space, made from things still alive then
Too much time is what I need to find my way



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