Time
Suddenly, the clock hands stop moving.
The man loses
the count of hours,
minutes,
the days.
No yesterday,
no tomorrow,
not even today.
His bewildered eyes
wander along
the shoe rack,
the shirt hanger,
beneath the shower,
inside the teacup,
from wall to wall.
At last,
feeding on memories,
they lie within the mind
like a dead cricket.
Except for falling asleep
and waking again,
nothing else
has ever lived.
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