Sandtimer

You have that sandtimer,
On the shelf in your kitchen?
I flipped it a few times to try and gauge
How much sand it held.
Each time I tried to measure it though,
I would get distracted.
(You're very good at diversions.)
We would go upstairs with our tea or
You'd sit up on the counter and
I would have eyes for nothing
But you.
Then (always in a slight rush, cutting it as close as you'd dare),
Leaving your house,
I would peak at the sandtimer
A second time.
Each time it had run out,
Before I could count the minutes it represented.
Precious minutes.
I must have tried at least three times,
Each time leaving without the answer to
How long?
How long do we have?
I can see the answer now,
Almost.
We're close to the end of our sandtimer,
But believe me, this time I'm paying close attention.

I'm so afraid to blink and find it empty.