Ready. Time is not.

A rare flower, distinct perfume.
Flooding the nose, the nasal cavities sing.
Endless search through a dark abyss,
search for something worthy.
Empty, dark, nothing, Where?
Why can't it be summoned,
why can't the connection be made?

There are cans and string,
We haven't figured out how to communicate,
yet.
Time, let the slow prickling hands of the clock
sting, give patience, give anger, give praise.
Make the time faster.
Irregular beats of seconds, so that the time
ceases to pain me with each day.
So that we can find it at the end,
The search is long. I'm tired.

Not tired enough to quit.