the clock ticks
idly forward
continuing its
slow march
into the
everchanging future
I stare at it
watching the hands
etch forward
wishing they were
your hands
molding against my
skin perfectly
feeling every curve
carressing me gently
at this time
I keep staring
hoping you are
alive and well
my heart aches
with worry
stress, such agony
I feel like I’d
explode if I
continue to
glare
at the clock
so I hid them
away
to keep my mind from
traveling there
to forgo such
an impulse…