Twilight Hysteria, Pt. II

Drip, drop
Midnight slid off the clock..
and slipped
in between the lines, between parted lips
to rest on ivory headstones etched
with implications and regrets, desolate
and draped with dust
because one is too uncertain of a number
and any further digit is just wishful thinking.
 
Time threatened
in its shady corridors, juggling diamonds
tempting her with grand promises:
she swatted them like flies
Absentmindedly as she watered plastic
potted plants with love in her ears, waiting
For them to grow and fester.
 
Her very own child!--- could you imagine?
A clever contraption of broken glass
and cracked mirrors. A spitting image
of glamour.
 
Drip, drop---
Midnight slipped off the clock
and she came fumbling after
writhing in the satin abstractions
of her psyche, draped loosely 'round her conscience
where regrets hung in golden-framed, picturesque splendor.
 
Tick, tock
Midnight slipped off the clock
and my head came tumbling after it.