Only so many minutes till midnight
And then six hours until death dawns
In the parchment sunlight that gods
Use to file their taxes
Only so many beliefs left to wander
Before wandering turns to wakening panic
The kind that turns like time never passing
Squeezing into the abyssal density
Between here and some allotted rest
At twelve I know the time is wrong
I forgot to feel my clock before reading it
And now all I have is the last bite
Less than half
Emptied into tomorrow
No comments:
Post a Comment