Glide

Prepping the liquid embezzlement

entranced by the journey

of air to sand to stone.

The lakes of you, feeling a presence,

making it a point

to break apart my favorite boulder.

 

An oasis only exists

for those in need of sustenance.

Otherwise,

you stand empty

surrounded by empty

a droplet sharing no notable meaning

beyond, “continue”.

 

Billowing,

some nights

I glide.

 

I think I’m in the middle of one of those nights.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s