Forty nine days since I last fired a shot in anger
Forty nine degrees of the second hand
Reaching back behind the hour
This was where you were
Simmering, uncomfortable yellow
Tired of sleep
Each of us made to live
In our own imagination
Drip all that hysteria, bottle it up
The vintage of redacted Spring
Mix with other neuroses
How terrifying has time been
When slowed to a distant tremor
As the cataclysm of energy, all consuming fire
Torchlight on the moon
Nestled in the dark of an atom
So the click as the hand ticks one sixtieth
Long echoed into silence
Stretched across sprawling galaxies
Then, the hand softly ticks again
The greatest empire ever seen
Primordially born, ended with Byzantine lateness
Living in a sliver of that second
Four million
Two hundred thirty three thousand
And six hundred seconds.
@nepion_boreas17
