Musings of an Untethered Mind

Time Sleeps for No Man

She's got time on her hands
everybody says.
Supple breasts,
firm thighs,
a cellulite free asset.

Yes, she's got time.

Yet time waits for no man
time weaves a web of
false security.
Time lies.
Time pretends to sleep.
Time pretends to stand still.

She's got time or so she thinks.
In the blink of an eye
like Rip Van Winkle
she is awaken to the fact
that time has stolen her

Time smiles slyly.

She stands naked looking in the mirror
of the hopeful promise she
once basked in.

Time sleeps for no man.


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