The tip of my tongue

Do not rush, time.

I understand the upside-down.

Your hands point to

confirm, relearn.

I let you synchronize

the signs for us.

I refuse to wait,

commands are not of substance

when they repeat.

I have learned and avoid relearning.

Moons settle and I almost lose,

you are the tip of my tongue

but a secret I keep

gracious on my heart.

The three times I fought

with a star that is a sun

for you

Everyone watches their own.

I have things I can keep,

for were I to tell

no one would listen like I

heard you.

From treasure to a thought,

a fancy.

A knowing unknowingly wrong,

I hold you underneath;

tip of my tongue.

The grace, the great grace, the wonder.