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Alarm Clock
An alarm clock.
On the edge of the nightstand.
No one came after me the whole night.
Except the skin of my thoughts.
Shaking but nothing.
It’s like I woke up and ate gravity and passed out again.
It’s all about time.
Wrappers crinkling underfoot.
More and more trash scattered.
Warping.
The sound of the garbage truck is blending into everything…
And no one calls me anymore!
An alarm clock.
Which cooks up seconds for us.
And burns us.
Feeling unwieldy when I stand.
Getting up even though I’ll be late anyway.
Being strong is doing things to make yourself later and later.
Uncooking the toast.
Unbrushing your teeth.
Creating more places to be.
Places which are just outlines.
There’s still that alarm clock.
That goes on.
Copyright ©
Angelica Tao
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