Friday, March 30, 2012

The clock face of love

How many seconds pass between the clicks,
Between the sweeping arms and fading hills,
The worried looks that break the speed of sound
Between our eyes,
Again, the sweep begins,
Telling its concurrent lie, without change
With the slightest bend, out of place
A resonate nightmare
Bleeding our faces white.
We are helpless souls
Drifting sadly in the circles of a dream
Blinking on and off beneath
The flurried sparkle of a magic wand,
Blinking often,
More off than on.

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