The watches mechanism winds me tightly as I set the tension.
The rain bleeds out and I drink in the cold, as clarity finds the skies o’erhead.
A stacatto of lightbursts, not unlike a passage at speed beneath sparse Autumnal boughs.
Caught between two worlds as ever, I am; subject of the here and now, as well the space outside of time.
Every moment moving toward; inexorably away, from the firmamental past unto the fractured left.
Hoping my trajectory, will see me fall your way. Knowing that i’m more likely, to find oblivion.