while observing the steady
passage of the clock.
I know it could all go wrong
but things just might go well too…
Counting down the time, the hours, minutes, and days, until sweet freedom.
Chomping at the bit, stamping hooves, whinnying, and shaking the bridle.
Creaking and moaning, advancing a finger’s breadth: idly maddening.
Drumming my fingers, waiting, wondering, dancing on the dagger’s edge.