Time, again.

Hadn't realised yet what time was

a worthless bed

when number two always divides itself

growing up

growing up again

realising own face again.

When clocks become ink

nothing but smiles and smoke.

feeling nothing

worthless time
deceiving us too much

that we forget to watch

instead, we count.

when there's nothing to count,

we still buy the same old-fashioned clocks.