Let the sound of rushing white noise
Fill my head
To match my streaming eyes
Let the soft tick of my eyelids
Inexplicably cease
To match my weary heart
Let the mechanical labouring of my lungs
Grind to a halt
To match my weakened limbs
Let me be whole again
Let me never see her geisha lips
Draw magnetically close to his
My body is time
Let the clock stop.
And the pendulum
Hang.
