Saturday, 19 March 2011

like the music of the spheres. maybe

there are times when lying in bed i swear
i hear the ticking of a clock.

only there is no clock.

i can pin point the exact location
from which the sound quietly emanates
despite it's source
remaining stubbornly hidden.

curiously, im not certain
it's purpose is to measure time,
but to keep the rhythm.

only audible when my body is parallel
to the ground it feels
like a forever reminder of a before.
a pulse that will continue to throb even after...

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