abstinence

I can’t be certain of the dates;
Should have been many births back
Clocks won’t tell me (or you) how many -
Their circular rebirths deny my dog-lives.
A wrong step at a time
As if to escape
The blocks of calendar swooning across this red hall way
Swaggering as I play with the tiny flat piece of mosaic between its tables
At times by a leap, at times by a step, at times blindfolded;
Hoping to step on the line.