The Clock

it’s late
and still i hesitate
the clock on the wall
has counted more hours than i can recall
yet silently
it continues
the tick tocks
while the tock ticks
and i miss you
rehashing the dialogue in my mind
i rewind to your passion
to develop my action plan
to rewrite our names in the sand
reclaiming what sudden storms attempted to erase
i make haste
to salvage what is left behind
asking the creator to give a sign
divinely intervene
and redeem us from what tried to ruin us
bring back the trust
covered in dust
and the freedom to touch the unseen
a perfect melody of crescendos
only the creator knows
of my yearning
how my thoughts are turning inside my head
and wanting you in my bed
whispering the past of words said
in the present tense
i crave your company
how funny without laughter it is
as the depth of my emotional tide
cums for you
while waiting for two
to become one again
my friend
my lover
my other
in completion to what is already whole
you are my mold
and only to you i fit
i feel addicted
and thus my need to avenge
the star’s alignment
that encourage our entwinement
welcoming the divulging of secrets
we keep
looking to when we will meet
the same book
the same chapter
the same page
the same paragraph
the same word
i’ve heard the distant ticking
as incessant as it is
i’ll sit her listening
until it is drowned out
by your love and kisses
as concrete seeps back in the cracks
solidifying a sturdy foundation
allowing me to birth your nation
for eternity and beyond
unaware of tocks tick
or ticks tock


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Ameehsal MindSpeaka

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