Time-Less

It is strange don't you think how time can have different tempos at the same time while I try to preoccupy myself with something other than you the time passes you could say in it's usual way but then during its usual momentum of passing I think of you and my preoccupation with something else is broken and suddenly time does not seem to have moved at all hasn't moved from tick to tock but hangs there in between a pendulum frozen a clocks second hand suddenly aching to reach it's next graduation of purpose a purpose for a clocks second hand existence to measure a moment All the time in the world the sands run through an hourglass grain by grain tumble toward the infinite the timelessness in the nethermost of a wishing-well on a single thought hangs itself perpetual as if in a solitary breath can count the creaking, groaning springs unwinding aching from tock to tick the seconds split and each graduation of its purpose the second hand existence while I try to preoccupy myself with something other than you