Time = Sick

“Round and round.
Slow and steady…”

Time = Sick
The throb of the clock
Swollen and stopped, stuck with
The drum of rhythm and rhymes.
Taught so it hurts. Monotony:

Round and round.
Slow and steady, through which
Each breath that I breathe
Is in

And out
And out.
Flooded with memories

Of very hour.
Chime: dread holds me down.
Tick tock: ‘Oh, your laughter!’
Tick tock. Heartbeat.

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