Wish I could slow down
the song I play,
buying dilated time.
Its tempo reigned in,
but it's timbre intact,
for I dare not change the tune.
Will it help the dreams
linger on in a trance,
a tad longer,
a minute or two,
a second or an hour,
a day or eternity.
The song heralds eternity,
and it plays in a loop.
Alas, time, its vagaries,
is linear, is a knife.
It rips open the winter jacket,
but it cuts cakes too...
-- Leslie
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