The clock turned.
Time gave me wrinkles.
Time gave you birth.
The clock stopped.
Space gave us feeling.
Space gave us soundlessness.
The clock began ticking.
The clock began tricking.
The clock began winning.
Time gave me panic.
Time gave you sentience.
Time gave me progeny.
Time made you leave.
Oye, musing without textonomies.
A Certain Tip
About Me
- Luna & Gaelle
- New York, New York, United States
- Wine turns me over, but a text makes love.
Musing:
Poetry is words making love to each other.
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