Time should get a facelift. A new description. Or a better explanation.
The way it moves, intertwines and cascades from our minds. How it can grip our arms or drip from fingertips. Time. How easily it evaporates into nothing.
One day becomes a week, becomes a year, becomes five.
Smokey turned officially twenty this week. And I've known my best friends for nine years this week. And funny how I can remember both of those first moments of each with detailed clarity, but I have a hard time remembering yesterday.
But yes. This week. These days. This time. Monuments to attribute. Things to remember, to forget. All things considered, I guess we've just considered.