I lay adrift on a wooden raft. Surrounded by the still, black sky of
my mind. Floating on the dark, dimpled water of time. There your face
twinkles above me. You shine. Stars so seemingly close, but
unreachable. The light glowing on my outstretched hands. Clawing at
the sky, but unable to grasp the source.
My heart ticks in time to the groan of the planks. It is a clock.
Counting not the day, but the moments since last we touched. Passion
in fingertips the world has not yet rendered. Promises unspoken by
lips that plead for fulfillment.
Tick Tock. I drift farther from your touch.
Tick Tock. Two more moments alone without you.
My heart is a clock. It’s muscle and nerves the gears and pins. A
machine. A tool. But a clock is meaningless without time. Without
time, a clock would simply count. Valueless decimals discarded and
alone. My heart is a clock and you are its time. Giving purpose to a
machine empty without you. Your sweet song, the harmony to my meter.
Breathing life into the inanimate.
Tick Tock. My heart waits for you.
I lay adrift on the water of time, waiting for the currents to bring
me back to you.
— Beach Leanbh