The Humility of Time

in the tumble of choice we wear our vices.
the soft folds tender their gentle promises.
while the deeper creases barter with our ambivalence.

the long climb swallows our footsteps.
we search the pockets of our discarded skins.
for any remaining leverage.

tired voices spend the words we've left behind.
everything is temporary, except the losses.

we are constructed from the sublime edges.
of world without a center. 

we are turned by the nervous corners.
coins at the backs of our throats.
desperate to purchase what can't be sold.