the timing of the shrew

time is a cruel mistress. 

wrathfully, she steals the sands of my days and stockpiles them in dunes of night. useless, empty, tedious night when the world is asleep to my vigil, asleep as i watch her open her fingers, 

cackle, 

and let the grains trickle through.

time, you mocking shrew, you dominatrix,

give me back my sand. 

let me spend it how i want to

let this nightly vigil end. 

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