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I was in a shop that sold time.
The shop was filled with tick tocking
and soft plinks as grains of sand
hit against glass. All kinds of watches
were on display. As I looked around
the shop, I noticed the people within.
They were all men I had been with,
men that I had loved, at one time
or another. They all turned towards me.
Each came closer, holding out
a watch for me. The first
held out a watch made from
glass, it’s strap covered
in shards that would only
draw blood from me.
“You would look wonderful wearing this.”
I backed away from him.
“No, I don’t want that.”
The next man held out a watch
with a strap made from barbed wire.
“You should wear this one.”
I pushed it away. “I can’t wear that.”
Then one held out a woman’s watch,
covered in pearls and rubies.
“This one would look great on you.”
“No.” I said. “It wouldn’t.”
The next man held out a watch made from
steel and it looked heavy and cold.
“This is your watch.” He said.
I shook my head again.
“No, it’s not.” I turned and looked
at the room of men I had
loved and shook my head.
“None of you knew me at all.” I said.
“I choose none of the watches.”
I looked at each of the men in the eye,
met each of their stares with my own.
“I tell my own time now.”
When I left the shop,
It was without a watch but with
all the time in the world.
Have I told you before how much I love the imagery in your poems?
LOL! Yes you have but I never get tired of hearing it. 🙂
🙂