Canine Time

Time seems concentrated.

Compressed and condensed
like sweet milk.

Each second
Ticks the tock
Of seven.

And each minute
Has six more
Stacked within it;
A Russian doll of understanding.

Each hour
Is seven fold with
Tales told of experiences
That by location were divided but
Through emotion were shared.

And each week
Stretches time further.
Back before the gig when we first kissed
Beyond the corner table and
Folk inspired cider
In the pub where you thought you worked.

Our paths have crossed before
As we laughed together
Drank together
In a cellar bar years ago
Before I even knew you.
And I still don't believe in fate, or gods or qi,
But you... I believe in you.