10 metres of tar, 1 little red man

2 metres of pavement, so i called out your name
was by here by is by there
i could only notice the colour of your hair
but you no longer smelled the same
and you could only ask why i was dragging this
(metremetremetremetremetre+month) between us, and to where
i hear the dice crack as you fist-fully reshuffle our constellation
cruelly revealing a brand new configuration that no longer
sparkled the same as our sands have all been emptied
just before you came ~ almost too cordially ~
this dusk has managed to coyly stuff these
(years months days) just beneath the (minutes and seconds) above my skin
starting from the (metres and yards) your glow that i see
where unsurprisingly as neither our fingers nor pallor
kept up with our increasingly redundant game
since (neither of us are to be blamed
and i myself) no longer smelled the same