Time Is Thinner than Glass

By Frank X Walker
I had forgotten you were my first kiss
until I see you standing there
behind my sister, waiting     quietly.

Your half smile tells me you remember
too, so I pretend to ignore
the orange jumpsuit swallowing your curves.

In that chasm between my lips
and her ear, I search for words
I haven’t found strength to rehearse.

Hand dancing through two inches of glass,
I manage a “mama’s gone” and watch her
legs quit—her heaviness fold like paper

into your ready arms. The receiver swings
like a dead man. Time bends. I close my eyes
and kiss you, again. This time it’s for real.

Notes:

“Time Is Thinner than Glass” is reprinted from About Flight (Accents Publishing, 2015) and is part of the folio “Frank X Walker: Kinfolk.” Read the rest of the folio in the January/February 2026 issue of Poetry.

Source: Poetry (January/February 2026)