She’s never full.

The world – her craving.
Towers bite into the sky,
Shadows eat the morning light.
Clocks scream in silent tongues,
Hands that dance – but do not write.

The sand won’t fall –
It rises high.
A man stands still,
A broken lie.

He’s made of flesh,
A heart that beats,
A body falls – While time deceives.

She did not come
As stream or friend,
She came as hunger,
As the end.

She chewed through seconds,
Swallowed years.
No more mornings,
No more tears.

He saw the gap
Between the hours,
Where things decay
Without their flowers.

He held her tight –
That cold desire,
Filled with sand,
So soft, so dire.

He saw her move
Through space and skin,
A whispering pull,
A dream within.

She bent the now,
She broke the then,
And took what was –

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