The Ticking Watch

[rowens]

Blank pages promise a
brighter future
or they highlight a 
dark past.

Here I am now
In the dim light of my bedroom
with my ticking watch pressed against my cheek

to quell the rising wave of emotions in me.
The clock ticks steadily
certainly
and I breathe a sigh of relief.


Let "cheek" and "relief" do the sonic work. 

The words begin to dance
in pointe shoes and pink tutus
and they giggle prettily
behind their pale hands

As they do pirouettes
in between the stanzas
to the beat of my
ticking watch.

They arrange themselves in lines
and rows
spinning over and over
and they blur together under the weight of my tears.