Writing

Human reed

In my hands

Time itself

I could put it down

But I can’t pick it up again

Minutes pass

Is it colder?

 

I can’t tell anymore

 

Clocks are just ticking things

Life makes them ring

Fingers withered

My voice still sings

The spark and the fuel

For the myriad things

It’s all just words

It’s all just words

Still now old aeolian harp

This one’s for you

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