Hours, tick tock, hours, crystals go
tick tock to the face of my watch.
Anxiety. Anxiety and wonderment.
Anxiety and wonderment and a mustache.
resolution in retrospect.
Stories forsaken- not my own.
What do they say again? Truth is swallowed
when passed on and on and on and on and on
However, nonetheless in spite
beating energy pent up within blood,
red and scorching, no steaming, no hot.
I’m really hot.
Bouncing legs, biting nails- stop.
What’s the gender? ♀