Will he
awaken
from a
wide-eyed
slumber?

Will he
be the
bearer
of bated
breaths?

Will he
succumb
to the calls of the
nether after?

When he
indulges in
romanticised notions
of untimely
deaths.

If spoken words meant the same

and if they still sing the memories of

full breaths and shared palms,


the steady elapsed ticks of the long-sunken

hand will resurface once more to chronicle

the suns of days and stars of nights.