Photo by National Gallery of Art on Unsplash
Every morning,
every night,
she sat in the room
waiting for something.
She lived her life
between silken wallpaper
and Chantilly silverware,
listening to the tick-tick-tick
of the oak wall clock—
steadfast as ever,
each second a blade,
paring her down to the bone,
until even the ticking
had nothing left
to take.
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