turn towards the light

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a bird lights on a windowsill, fleeting in nature
the light turns again toward the curtains
in the evening my freedom turns to rapture
again predisposed to the metronome

the hourglass rotates on an axis' balance
unbeknownst to the metro
in pursuit of its lone instance
the hammer falls and seals our fate

courtroom buzz delivers our letter
verdicts read are best when forgotten
I do my best to forget, but your face remains.

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