I tune to an hourglass at the bottom of the sea.
Beneath the waves, the glass sings a sufferable harmony— that like the thickening of the human face; that like my ghost who sings all of his minutes away. On the long table lay his last great aloneness. He once loved a woman who lived at the foot of a mountain of scrying monkeys—our human dream: a ship in two places, twin stars of an equal birth, named. In a dream, I found the mountain and stole her from him. The face of the man is never the face of the man who faces two places: we are only deep enough when we are face down among hours, caught in the hand like a dead clock in water.
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Jay SheetsJay Sheets is a poet, writer, and researcher. His debut book, The Hour Wasp, was released by April Gloaming Publishing in 2017. Sheets' poems and writing have appeared in numerous journals and magazines. He received a BFA in Creative Writing from Goddard College in Vermont and currently lives in Plymouth, Massachusetts. |