~Clocks~

I seldom end up where I wanted to go, but almost always end up where u need to be - Douglas Adams

Everyone

Everything is silent

The hands of the clock

The crows of our cocks

Our heartbeats

ticking

and stopping

together

in the dim

ill-fitting shadows

Our thoughts

except the

empty cymbals,

that still makes

the loudest noise

in the silence

a slow

terrible and bittersweet

dream

you have to stop and watch

on the busy street

everyone pushing

and pulling

in one wave of motion

without even realizing it

try to be

a rainbow

in someone else’s

cloud

a mirror of

good and bads

for one day

open the door

don’t play what’s there, like Charlie Parker said

play what’s not there