You’ll take off your wrist-watch before you lie beside me.
Just to lie. Is that necessary?
It’s like a token with subconscious neglect
before you leave me for long periods of time.
It sits near me with little presence felt and
ticks away building up time quietly
and I’ll notice it early on
or just before you come back,
depends on my luck.
The face of it covers my wrist, and it’ll slip off when
I turn my hand south. It helps me sleep as well.
Did I tell you?
It’s no replacement, more like a reserve.
It counts your absence,
counts my longing,
counts my blessings.
Alejandra Garza is first-generation Mexican-American, born and raised in San Antonio, Texas. She has a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and Women’s Studies from Boston University. She currently lives along the lower Chesapeake Bay in Maryland, and works in nonprofit association management. Visit her at http://redpetals04.wordpress.com/