The sound of my watch is rhythmic,
In synchronization with the moving silence in my mind, the repeating sound of my watch is close to my ear, running directly into immediate conscious, another passing second not far behind. The sound is spinning in circles; I imagine it gets faster than slow; capturing each moment with a click, like an unbiased charging train with another second in tow. A simple job my watch possessed, blind to the lethargic hour hand forced to slowly lurk, for beneath the simple click, a complex system was hard at work. My eyes closed, I see the gears violently slamming into place, for a moment of time I sat on the minute hand, watching closely as seconds passed me by with certain, organized grace. Jumping to the second hand, a violent jarring ride, I hold on, the sound of each click now greatly magnified, I reach up to touch the glass with my palm. Laying on half the length with my legs crossed and hands relaxed behind my head, I hover over the twelve numbers as if I was resting in my bed. Holding loosely onto it, I swing down to stand on the dark face, I run with the second hand, jumping over the others stationary in their place. I run my hands along the circular metal walls that I now found around me, embracing the complete monotone silence that I now let surround me. I stood in silent reverence on the black face below me; I could not take this simple sound for granted, for I could hear the complexity in every turn the gears fervently planted. I lay down in the blackness and watch the seconds pass above my eyes. I thought I would look up and see nothing but the ordinary clear sky, rather I see my reflection in the shining glass; it lingered, and always stared directly right back. Tension was felt when my eyes caught my own, there was nothing more I heard then the tearing sound of inevitable, roaring attack. I lay in awkward mourning, confused as time seemed to slow. There was a long moment of emotionless thought that the air decided to bestow. Confused in the least from the stare of my reflection in the light, I ran along with the seconds hoping I could allude, hoping to get out of sight. As I ran the faithful click began to fade, a drawn out company it soon made. My sound slowed, gaining no speed as time ran along, something has happened to the steady rhythmic song. The second hand turned to hour, and hour moved as light, the minute a steady pace, it made no intentions to live its life in race. I lay back down on the second hand, now a stationary being in this temporary world, all the questions I had were now quick to be unfurled. I was now as I was, legs crossed and hands relaxed, here I was sleeping inside time, as I was when I first heard the faithful click, heard the first rhyme. All was now black, and I heard the gears fall down, every screw, and every shard of metal not long be around. I can’t remember the day, although I always have the time, in this simple world of simple sound, simple presence, simple rhyme.