savoring my savior be!

Time used to breathe into my face
with a hot stink  
heaved past a set of teeth  
like knives, rusty  
and hiding.  
It would laugh -  
glass  
sick of its shape -  
only that  
of my father's favorite  
wine vessels,  
crystalline memories from his dead mother's house,  
and I'd broken the second to last.  
Like that,  
a laugh, and then  
in the concrete night sky,  
time, in the stars of shards  
would grin.  
 
It'd whisper at me  
between pages of high-school homework.  
It would tug,  
collar of AC too tight,  
fist full of leash  
keeping me home,  
off the violet school-night's begging streets  
that waited for me.  
 
I used to be a pet of time.  
Waited for it to come home  
to slow moments,  
and only then  
be content to perch on its sickly shoulder.  
 
Now,  
flight feathers.  
It cannot keep me.  
 
I take every day  
like sips of coffee.  
Every moment  
appreciated, and so not wasted -  
drunk, dear seconds  
dizzying me, all of them home,  
the perfect place.  
 
I hold warm love in my mouth. Yes.  
And never forget to taste.