Simile or constellation.

Do you know a good place to hide the six minutes 

lost before landing in the contagion infected 

The handset you now lick words from 

a stitched time as hands work those threads 

of your life back together 

with a simile or constellation a passing smile 

On a street that leads from procrastination 

to passing the port to see the storm 

Raging over a calm Memo of ph value 

Is there hand soap.