Father Times Mistress

I'll meet you there at spaces stop
When the world strikes three.
But number, love, aren't making sense,
I wish that I could see.

Past the raindrops, counting down,
(They're tapping out the plays).
Adding up where we should meet,
They're shaking through my days

Spent staring out the closing walls,
I think I hate this clock.
Oh lovely dear, I curse you all.
This sleeplessness, it mocks.

(Nothing rhymes anymore, not at this hour.
Oh, what have I done?)