Lovers

Lovers are notches on a clock. They grip the hands and ride. They fall at different times. When the clock strikes twelve, you’re not fully yourself. You grow harder every time. See, when you’re on her time, she’s on his. He’s on yours. You’re floating in a boat with no motor, no oars. Now you’re on his time. She’s on yours. Lovers are notches on a clock. They’re waxing and waning in every tick-tock. Your only hope is in waiting. You’re impatient. You can’t take your gaze off the watch.

Reviews

[Echoes of Eros]

You breathe a magic into your metaphor. With time seeming to dance around us, there are moments we treasure, and moments that just move on. Loved the way you made this one feel as it threaded itself around us!

[Lizzie Mitchell]

I'm stunned. You took such a simple idea and explored the depth of it in the most poetic way possible.
And I always want to read your pieces again and again.