Distanced lover shadows sit sighing at the fountain's edge.
Barely dripping enough shade into the stagnant water
to ripple a refracted tear, salting a bitter hope.
Once, they brimmed each other's souls, played water's games,
drank its sustenance, splashed footholds in joy.
But the age of bucket-bringing has passed into fear.
Algae found home in between finger wraps,
eating each helpful hand that drifted too close.
Pipes are clogged deep with muddied words, egg shell shoes,
and an attempted pump that was constantly shut down.
Hope for the hard work of grimy hand-holding,
defrosting hearts, digging through mistake ridden sludge.
Pray for desire to spark the engine, purge the wreckage,
and the fountain's song to crest again over fallen loves.
Pull the the sun's path forth, and let the rainbow smiles reign.
Passionate like a bear. Stubborn as a ram. Systematic as a rocket scientist.
No comments:
Post a Comment