She returns to where oblivion began,
rummaging through the wreckage of a shattered clock,
trying to mend the gears, frayed by the passage of years.
She finds nothing but her own distorted,
almost imperceptible form, slowly dying
as memory dies where the clock hands stopped.
©️ María Gallardo
Nov 11, 2025
Nov 11, 2025 at 11:21 AM UTC
She returns to where oblivion began,
rummaging through the wreckage of a shattered clock,
trying to mend the gears, frayed by the passage of years.
She finds nothing but her own distorted,
almost imperceptible form, slowly dying
as memory dies where the clock hands stopped.
©️ María Gallardo
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