Today — "I don't have time", tomorrow — "maybe", the day after tomorrow — "we'll see" — and still the moment flows like sand through an absent mind.

The clock, no matter how beautiful, knows no hesitation, knows no "later", does not feel "now is too early".

It beats, simply, for what it is, not what it could be. It does not measure hopes, nor postponements wrapped in politeness.

Its tick-tock is sincere, but we lie to it gracefully: "I have a little more", "If only the stars would align..."

And yet, in its round silence, the clock tells us the truth: there is no "right moment", but only the courage to make it be.