Time ((___))

Never before has every moment been such an eternity,
each passing inch of the clock held such anticipation,
such anxiety, such stupid, blind hope, as, as as as
I hope I can maybe make something of it this
time,
yet the dread of the likely, the dread of
the now
and the status quo, they -
the fear is crippling,
the venom entangling palpable,
the goddamn anticipation is swaying and distorting every frame of vision, but I
I can't stop thinking that the only pure vision, the only clear sight,
that illuminated and sharp one, no -
no qualifiers
no statements of truth vailidity
no explanations of value, no -
just that
I can't
stop
thinking about how beautiful you were
in that black dress
that night in Chicago