by Kie Borsden

While no minute can last forever,

(there is always one in each folded hour
to lend itself to me, and seamlessly
allow to be forgotten in the toll.

Where keystrokes force their clattered beat between
the pendulum—she runs, just for a moment—

a moment unseen below the clock,
unknown to time—she hums behind my smile
a finite tune dissolved into a blink.)

forever need only last a minute.

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