tomorrow

On a clear day you can't see tomorrow
but you can see the place where the
ocean and the sky meet, seamless
and blend into one another
barely discernible in shades of
cobalt and gunmetal
and i guess that kind of looks like
tomorrow sometimes

But when I see tomorrow
all i see is
the 4 assignments i need to
finish
my bank balance
the morning rush at the gym
the smelly guy on the red line

I don't want to see tomorrow
all i want to see is right now
this bed
and what we can do with it
I want to see my eyes reflected
in yours looking into mine
I want to see our fingers
intertwined
like an elaborate basket

I want to see the back of my eyelids
as I drift off into that
sweet space
between your shoulder
and your collarbone
and today and tomorrow
where lifetimes can be lived
in eight hours
and nobody waits for the T