Two clocks. Two clocks clicking, ticking, together, out of sync. We’re sitting in the middle, but I’m the only one here. Spill your guts to me, on me; in my mouth. I’ll chew them up, savoring each bloody bite, like I’m supposed to. I usually eat too fast, but this just might slow me up. Now we’re somewhere else, but I can’t quite.

Do this to me more.

I will always let you, you snake.

Let me sometime.

I am so tired of listening to these clocks.