This tick-tock

Is the time

Of our lives.

Each moment

That we donate

Each kiss

Each smile

Each tear

Each mile

Are our silent


Of unmindful


To death.

That we didn’t


The wormy

Tick-tock of

Our own demise.

This tick-tock is

Our tiny truce

Taking for granted

That this tick-tock

Won’t be our last.

But a moment,

Just like this,

May not come

At our willful


But will,


Cause someone else

To donate


Their moment

To notice

Your absence

Your Tick-tock-DING!

Chronos woos Thanatos

Let the heavens encircle me and devour me whole

For there is no consolation discovered in my soul

As I stare at flirtatious Chronos, intimate with Thanatos

Life’s theater curtain dropping embroidered with asbestos

I howl my lamentations, tears are tumbling forth

I beseech every corner: East, West, South, and North

That this play has no finale, that this can’t be the last act

But there in the doctor’s lines printed, it’s a matter of fact.

My suspended disbelief refuses to actualize this truth

While Chronos solicits Thanatos with a mortal bloom of youth.

Their eternal courtship dances on the stage in front of me

I glare daggers at their conduct, contempt at their complicity