Mere Moments

If your eyelashes spill in a crescent cascade.
Then it washes out the light.

If a breath presses against your lips, they split.
Then there it a faint respite.

If the last syllable of some word hangs on your tongue.
Then it echoes between your cheeks.

If your throat undulates, swallowing critical thoughts.
Then your hesitation leaks.

If your hair slithers like a black breeze along your neck
Then a tickle is a failed endeavor.

And if I could squander a day on a moment of beauty.
Then you could live forever.