From BAMBOO RIDGE Issue Number 44, Fall 1989, Last Quarter

From BAMBOO RIDGE Issue Number 44, Fall 1989, Last Quarter:

Robin Lim's “Something of Ours”:

For a long time after — after you,
years maybe,
I had a small white clock with a
brick colored smudge on the top,
to one side.
Just a thing with a face.

How many hours were counted before and during?
How many intimacies does a clock witness, before
it tires of ticking?
Boredon and passage, measured in standard.
The grey gears inside, patient, tightening, relaxing.
With teeth.

Now — I remember; and bend close to see, it is a dried
rusty fingerprint. Ridges.
On the morning our daughter was born, in our bed,
you checked the time.
Your hand wet,
with my blood.