Pervert's Clock

Swiss clock
Whose hour hand were in the shape
Of a girls arms clasped together
The minute hand
Her legs
She did her most magnificent
Contortions at the oddest times of day
In the middle her small body and head
Made her look quite freakish
It was given to be by an uncle
Not a favorite one
Not one disliked either
A medium uncle

Might still have smelled like her
It might still have smelled of Christmas
when she kept in on
It was cold she said

He didn’t know how to light a fire, he said
Then, he gave her a watch
Gold or silver, he couldn’t remember
She thanked him, she already had one
Just like it, but it no longer worked
He thought of that watch now
His gift not the broken one
As he held the scarf loosely on his left hand
Like he was clutching something he had once
Let go of but never would again
His mother had bought it for her
they did not get along
they fought like a mother and daughter would
and maybe he loved her more because
she made him think of his mother like that
like somebody’s daughter