Hurt Swallows Time

Late passing contemplations

the motion of ill met tapes

playing cyclic

always return afterward,

before, again, because

often we forget where we started.

Once the wheels roll,

there’s no stopping the outcome,

always in question,

constantly playing with peace of mind.

In twilight would I react the same

as an afternoon in the sun,

what is it that energy allows

when alone,

in a crowd,

by yourself you create time,

who might know

that time is always nearby.

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