My ears caught a group of marching bands playing on a moving train
Circling around, giving, taking breath to that ticking, that flame framed clock above the mirror

They always sound louder when you are not around --which means always
And loudest at 3:17 a.m. when I write you letters I can't ever send

Their rhythm never fit but I never missed even a heartbeat of mine
Because I wish, I wish yours'd one day join

And I thought I wish I were deaf
Just so I could refer those who wish they were deaf as arseholes

(It's been a long time of pretending
That I know about you --at least a thing)

I am always wrong and this poem is genuine