if we had more time

if you catch me in the cowardly space

between the truth and a good laugh

don’t let me hide my face.

it’s a delicate dance we do

in the embers of the old world and in

the time of monsters but i try my hardest

to sup on joy where i can find it

though never let myself a full cup.

let’s pour one out and share it 

together half and half.

i know sometimes it seems like scavenging

amongst the ever growing burning heap

of rubble and rubbish and-

you know actually give me a minute.

sometimes it seems like sewing together

a sentence in a tongue 

you don’t quite speak.

a patchwork of something close to

what you imagine it could be

if you’d just had more time.