My hips keep time,
Sixty second circles,
Forming minutes in the air;
My heart beats out the moments,
Its ticking filling gaps in the circles;
My hands move slower,
Inch by inch etching hours in your skin.
By: Bethany Maxwell
March 29,2013
©2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
novel approach to montage... time tide and love intertwined as they shd be liked :)