Melanie McCuin

I enjoy keeping time
As much as you enjoy
Being restrained by it.
The relentless tick,
My obsession,
Always to the beat
Of your heart.
The feel of our skins
Salts and copper and
Leather straps.
Being wrapped round your wrist
And that curl of hair that always
Gets caught in my pins,
A metallic bite.
At night you toss me
Onto the nightstand and sigh and groan
Until you fall asleep,
But in the morning you take me up again
And gingerly strap me to your left arm,
Your moods as predictable as
6:30 a.m.