(no subject)
there is a heavy stone tied to my right ankle, not a stone, more of an hourglass, this awareness of time and it's passage through my life, i count the hours in every minute, the minutes in the day, the minutes we are together and more and more often the minutes that we are apart. this troubles me. i try to account for these missing pieces of time, gears ticking quietly in a pocket watch that you bought for me at the antique store on a strange bright afternoon in february, we were drinking discreet and strong rum drinks. i broke the watch, it fell off of it's chain. in the dark, in my new nest, i hear it ticking.