the sieve and the sand

there’s moments in music
when the drums tread increasingly upon the silence
(as if walking up stairs)
only to stop—suddenly—sensing your thoughts—

returning—wildly—crashing—
with the strings and the horns
desperately trying to hold the world together
by a single measure

and there’s moments in life
when your hair brushes my skin
(as a bird along the water’s surface)
only to stop—suddenly—sensing my thoughts—

and

continuing—gently—gliding—
so i can feel each strand reach
trying to hold us together
by a single moment.