Who decided time is something we should
measure? There seems little solace in knowing
that each tick of the clock is a moment
vanished, slipped through loose fingers curled around the
sofa arm. I am unable to grasp
that which is gone, to hold onto it as
I once held onto you. I wrap my fingers
tight around the padding, wondering
if doing so might still the tremors of
my failing grip. My tea sits undrunk, half
splashed into the saucer.
Amanda McLeod is an author and artist from Australia. Her work can be found in many places both in print and online, and she is the Managing Editor of Animal Heart Press. She’s always looking for silence and coffee. Connect on Twitter @AmandaMWrites or via amandamcleodwrites.com
Emerge Literary Journal 