I'm unaware of time and date.
It frightens me deeply.
The noise from the street
and the muffles of other lives
more enjoyed-
maybe, even,
to the fullest extent
that people talk about.
Time is nothing to them.
The precious moments--
seconds you'll remember
where time stood still like a painting
where the artist thought,
"We'll remember this moment."
So in your mind- it sleeps
undiluted and safe.
Even the muses
can't touch it now.