Dali’s clocks

The clock in my room

wanes like a moon;

with each inward collapse

of tick to tock, light grazes

the walls – glass beneath water –

I count quietly, each inward collapse,

my tick to tock,

dreams of petrichor healing;

evaporating raindrops on my lips.

I yearn for yesterdays 

in the shape of tomorrows,

for a body with lines and scars

which dance and glisten – never flinch –

I count quietly, each 

inward collapse, tick to tock,

and pray. I pray the glass never shatters

and the rain never leaves. 

I pray the clock in my room

never melts

and my hands and my heart

never forget how to hold,

in my midnight dreams,

each inward collapse,

of petrichor healing. 



A winner of @candicedaphn.e prompt poetry competition on Instagram.

Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020

My poetry collections:

Flowers on the Wall UK

Flowers on the Wall US

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US


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