Tuesday, March 14, 2017

The frozen clock

The numbers in front of me, merge together..
They make sense and they dont
For the meaning I seek, can not be found there.

I identify with the broken clock on the wall,
Stuck like me in a time, 
Perhaps hoping to never lose what has already been
A lost cause..

Could I freeze those moments forever?
The tired glances,
the furtive whispers
The seemingly endless conversations

I watch the bubble form, slow but sure
Have i become a taxidermist now?
One that mummifies memories
Holding on to something,
That would otherwise decay effortlessly..

What is fate?
The preservation?
Or the inevitable decay?

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