My sand is dripping hypnotically
in the hourglass confusingly precise
of the time which was fated to me
in the shore of cosmogonic gravity
walked with sandals of nanoseconds.
My soul seems to not be able to refrain
from painting in the sand that drips
brushing the fecund hourglass' ontic
in tones of ante and post meridian
of the sandals of nanoseconds.
beautifully written!
Thanks i appreciate your comments
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