There is no telling where time is.

It's time for bed. Time to sink into secret thoughts until my consciousness surrenders to the darkness. Let me put an end to Tuesday night with a part of Ted Hughes' poem 'September'.

"We sit late, watching the dark slowly unfold:
No clock counts this.
When kisses are repeated and the arms hold
There is no telling where time is.

It is midsummer: the leaves hang big and still:
Behind the eye a star,
Under the silk of the wrist a sea, tell
Time is nowhere."

You can see more of September in poetry here.