when i haven't got the time

i am repetitive,
and 'speechless' takes too long to write--
a gap between us is more temporary
than presence
because we are drawn,
like magnets or sketches,
bodies close and physics notwithstanding.

strings from fingertips to stars,
we are a heavy glass of evening
heady and incapable of smooth breath;
have you heard our spines lately
as they wrap dreamily around streetlamps?
they tell us that language
is a toy--

[and i talk like it's going out of style.]