Whatever happened to the girl behind the clock?

​

I remember seeing a slanted smile like an invite

That ruined my date night

Your lips at my neck, sealing our fate tight

All that time ago.

How ironic the date line,

now separates yours from mine.

And? we no longer want to reap 

what we tried to sow.

We could not survive me yawning at the midday

dreaming of what you'd say,

as you were blinking open those eyes,

still sparkling from The Sandman's touch.

Yet I can't help thinking if I live forever and still knew nothing, 

Then I know this much:

If she were to appear in my present, however tense

The kissing from that smile would still be sublime

And I would stop missing her chosen erstwhile, 

Trapped, as I am, in British summertime.