the pages just had the last
drop of the water of the bottle…
that is my
mind
and i think it best it awaits the grey
in my eyes,
grey in my skies
signalling storms

quenching thirst with agitation
under the pressure
i hope it don’t give in to breaking
and parting
and holds it together

And now, starting
And already, i see the end of it

the pages just had the last
drop of the water of the bottle…
that is my
mind
and i think it best it awaits the grey
in my eyes,
grey in my skies
signalling rains to come

and the pages
them being
earth i hope not the barren kind
where
i sow words
as seeds
for the harvesting
season to come