NUMBER

NUMBER

i feel, when time itself never aches, when lightning can scream and burst and tear but time never waits, when sun always decaying and moon still waiting, treads wearily forever in way, no, not time, never time, absent time, do i tremble or awake? am i not time in essence, the very elixir itself, a groping masturbation of dimensional co-hort? a trick, a tease, this whole quiet masquerade, where i took to those of winged to say wait here and play, you told me time was caressing and i Sheba in the nought, bit i knew behind me reaper, and beautiful skull-like thought, i conceived a tangent would christen me in the mountains holy regard but i, as time, in essence, only stand to watch and guard, i liken to a topography of lessened scissor thought and kiss between the windshield of revision mirror sought, a guess, an eclipse, a paradigm AGAIN and you mock me in this duality of over and over again, if i live than i cannot be perfect: in pentangles you dress me again.

Nicolee Ferris

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