Arranged on a torn out page,
silver “S”s of old wire pulled from broken clocks.
A razor shadow scratched by halogen behind each,
tracing its shape in intersections with blue ink lines,
a curve modeling stresses and crystal faults.
Exhausted by years of funneling pulses from a quartz chip,
the wires relax now bit by bit,
slow motion snakes,
emitting sub-audible scritchings against the paper fibers.
As it unwinds, each proudly imagines itself a mainspring.