Tendai R Mwanaka Chitungwiza,
Zimbabwe
Desire names this place possessive about panic like a shadow of time.
Prone to heart’s murmurs shift shapes of desires wagging through this time.
Storing this time like sunshine
into our own skins.
Our eyes pressed to the keyholes of our lives.
Time runs down our spines
like a shiver.
As we rub seconds, minutes, and hours One against the other.
The friction propelling us forward.
Time falls apart and breaks into a puzzle.
Measuring this time. by the mix of
these elements
Is that a poor attempt at timekeeping?