sit down with a line or three
words strung together centuries ago by a hand better suited we say
to tell the story of time
instantly stuck Im restless yet equally resistant
who am I to let my heart race over a course of vowels and consenants
as if what was then could be now
so therefore a pen a paper
perhaps a keyboard and fingertips
can assuage the eager pull married to the desolate resign
into an architectural archive