Ettison Clio

Time has dealt its loss and now I find history repeats itself.
I struggle against the binding thoughts of yesterday.
I'm sorry for something that you did not expect in your plan.
I'm sorry for thinking I could erase the guilt you traced with your hands.

Unprepared to dig myself a grave so shallow I hear your voice apologize.
And utterance beneath breath steals me from acid colors of lights and dreams.
Your scent is trapped on skin, tapped through wires.
This distance is killing you while patience seeps through me.

I'm lost again.
I'm sorry for giving my heart out so freely.
I'm sorry for

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