skin and grains

where does the time go, the time that slips away
skipping over tickings and chimes of clocks
does it pass by us on a chariot of wind
or does it lock itself within the vaults of our mind,
taking shadowy and blurry forms as memories –
we can move it forward but we can’t rewind –
is time outside of us, and every moment, we take some of
it within, since time is immortal, is this why it corrodes
away our skin? because we are poor vessels that cannot contain
something which can’t be lost yet can never really be gained?
can it really be counted with numbers, prime meridians
or even grains of sand? or is it all just a magic trick
meant to bring sanity to man?

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