Numb - A Pantoum

Within every limb, numbness pervades.

Perhaps I danced a little too long,

and I ought to clean up the mess I've made.

Under the light the stillness feels so wrong.

Perhaps I danced a little too long.

The hands of the clock move more than mine.

Under the light the stillness feels so wrong.

A voice comes to mind: “It never helps to whine.”

The hands of the clock move more than mine,

and I ought to clean up the mess I've made.

A voice comes to mind: “It never helps to whine.”

For every limb, numbness pervades.