Alison Ranger
Timed Lapse
This windowless room distorts perception.
Numbers cycle the repetitions.
The time lapsed and faded.
I felt your hands go loose.
Then the instants seize.
Then the chance recedes to hear your voice, to watch you breathe.
I drift alone to rebreathe recycled air, recycled time, recycled sea.
As motion stops, the breath resolves.
The heart stops. The seconds freeze.
The clock stops.
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