Watches
When it's late (or maybe early)…
Watches
When it’s late
(or maybe early)
and you wish
that you could wander—
but you must be satisfied
to sit in silence
and to wonder—
there’s a thing
that lingers yonder
ever flowing,
growing closer—
far too weak
to work its will
or try to pull
a thought asunder
but it’s there—
there all the same.
You must not fear
for it can never—
never ever—
even somewhat—
come to know
your secret name;
it cannot find
your secret name.
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