Impotence
It was the clock on her bedside table
That you focused on after
You both agreed it was not
A big deal and she tried to fall
Asleep and you just stared at a clock
Doing what it is designed to do
A clock with a second hand that never
Stops moving designed so the tip
Looks like Sisyphus pushing
A boulder around and around
And you watched that
Boulder turn until the sun’s
Presence proved to you
You were not dreaming
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