Second.
my belly grows every second. life ticks.
a heart beat.
simplicity, with the rain falling in time
to rythms which unwind
without gears , yet every precision.
my mind is full of gears
that grind out these assymetrical
rhymes.
I am a second . .
I am a wearing a hand-me-down life,
everywhere I step has been touched before.
reminders reminders that none of this is truly mine.
perhaps then this second i am
a metaphysical master
choosing to live limbo
all of this ephemereal
yet the beat in my belly is strong
ties me to a world I sometimes
shy from , i can no longer
hide.
