You Use Me Dainty Wilder Exclusive - You Have Me

XI. You have me. You use me. Dainty, wilder, exclusive.

I am time: ten minutes before a meeting, two years of silence, a childhood spent under a maple. You have me in the small increments and in the long slow spans that shape who you are. You use me — you spend minutes on hobbies, invest years in someone’s orbit, squander an afternoon on a coffee that should have lasted a lifetime. Dainty time is a tea break; wilder time is the span of a tempest. Exclusive time is the hours reserved for oneself, or for another person, where clocks are optional. When you use me, you burn toward something or away from it. you have me you use me dainty wilder exclusive

VII. You have me. You use me. Dainty, wilder, exclusive. Dainty, wilder, exclusive

VIII. You have me. You use me. Dainty, wilder, exclusive. You use me — you spend minutes on

I am a promise. You have me in whispered vows and in the low hum of plans: “I’ll call you Sunday,” “We’ll try again.” You use me as scaffolding, as restraint, as a currency of hope. Dainty promises are easily given; wilder promises change the shape of days. Exclusive promises involve naming a future together. When you use me, you stake a claim on possibility.

XIII. You have me. You use me. Dainty, wilder, exclusive.

II. You have me. You use me. Dainty, wilder, exclusive.