the six minutes and forty-seven seconds

why is it that
sometimes
your silence can
complete
sentences
that linger
unspoken on the
tongues of people
you agree you
know just enough
about. In the
rewindable six
minutes and forty-
seven seconds of
my life, I can
only contemplate
of the breaking
sun and the
completed square
of an aircraft you
know very little
about.

Maybe like
waking up in the
darkness behind
your eyes and knowing
you are lying at the
edge of the universe.
Sated. Human.