Marking Time.

The all seeing eye has been replaced

By all telling ones

A mutual supposition exists

In the illicit delight of life

Where the flea market of yearning

Bids in sundry moments

Romancing longing

In kisses clandestine,

For future's paths do backward find

Coming back to waiting time

Time, whose revolving doors

Blur me out, and in

Shadows scurrying in circles

Drawing our sighing reliefs

On tessellated pavements

Where arching shadows become sundials

That singularly trace

The lonesome march of listless skies

And a solitary blind eye

Bright…