Lately
you’ve been trying to tell time
by reading a clock
you can’t see
but you feel its presence
weaving itself
into your heart
beats
A pounding
pulsating
echo chamber
that takes
seconds
to combust
every minute and hour
into rusty dreams
of man-made
ticking machines
You can now hear
everything you touch
the sounds splinter
and clash
into one
spinning
form
of familiar