It's been a long while,
since I've felt anything.

Anything but the scrape of
minutes across my naked vein,
ticking softly, tick-tock...




Tick-Tock. Tick. Tick ... Tick.




Only my eyes focus on that last scrape as it fumbles back-forth
Tick-Tock.
across my name,
and it cuts softly.

Minute [tick] by minute [tick again]
The hand is stuck,


Choking repeatedly on the face of the clock,
wanting to know why I can't let go.
Wanting to know why I loose breath,
over one erased line,
pinning with my finger the delicate hand ,


 tick.. tick,


so it can't go forth and we stop spinning.

I want time to think, no more delicate bony hands singing,
and making me cough on unsaid tears and unshed love.

And when you looked at me,
bent over the faceless-face,
holding on to that one last second...

I skipped on my heart beaten breath and let go.




Tick.

You're gone.

Tock.




Tick-Tock.

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