Time is a cruel leash whose flow gives far too slowly, a bondage of the most unfair and contemptuous kind. It denies me your presence and chains me to this unearthly realm, rathering I not escape to the surrender of your embrace, but instead remain beholden to it's torment. Unrelenting, dispassionate, it knows no mercy.
The only rebuke I possess is to close my eyes for slumber - a cost far too high as it scrubs you temporarily from my mind - an act near as sin as one can contemplate, but one I fear I must tempt. The only respite the burden of your absence allows rips at my spirit, a spirit flayed by the shredding forces thrashing from some existential black hole as just punishment for my cruel, selfish submission.
Oh sweet man! Forgive me if I falter and slumber, know that it would only be in the pursuit of haste wrought by the failings of my mortal body. A body whose essence craves and desires your sounds, your lips, your smile, the simple pleasures of your sent, and the arc of your hips which fill so neatly in beside mine.
I hate the distance time enforces, and crave the righteous death of every passing second as it marches endlessly through eternity. I will rejoice in the diminishing of this restraint, straining at its edge while it fades until finally it crumbles and allows me once again to be with you. For the only inevitability my sweet dream, is that time will falter, long before I do.