hold on, darling. you don’t have to keep moving
forward. you can stay here as long as you need,
under the six o’clock sky. rust-colored clouds
and weak, dimming light. the night before daylight
savings, just before winter seeps in and your neighbors
start finding grey hairs on their bathroom counters.
say the word, and the sun won’t set until you’re
ready. take three minutes or eternity, swirling under
clouds that never cross the sky. it was always time,
varnishing your bones in this metallic ache. without it,
you are weightless. twirl on the grass like childhood,
bare feet and carelessness. before the minute hand
gained momentum, you were this. still and flowing,
Zoe Cunniffe is a poet and singer-songwriter from Washington, DC. She has previously been published in literary journals such as Velvet Fields, Trouvaille Review, Meniscus and The Showbear Family Circus, and she can be found on Instagram at @there.are.stillbeautifulthings.