by Polymer Glasses
He tasted Time. It tasted fine. Like sour wine. Like lemon-lime. He tasted Time. He peeled the rind. He reeled and cried. He sealed his mind, he tasted Time.
The taste of Time is baked and dried. Your lips would crack. Your eyes would blind. It would attack. You would have died.
The eyes of Time can see inside, the soul of yours, the soul of mine.
A man had dined. Some Time he tried. The Time was kind, it let him bind. It let him bind with soul and mind. The soul and mind of no mankind. He wasn't man, he wasn't kind.
Three hands and signs. A dozen signs. With Time now trapped inside his mind. The man would tick, the man would cry. A cry that woke our sleepy eyes. The man was gone, the man was Time.
Trapped in a clock, with hands of Time.