Drops splashing flat against the indifferent gray floor
Elbows on the knees
fingers playing with the glasses’ skeleton
Drops splashing in between apathetic high hills
…
What if I’m not able to get back
Get back to where we left that night
to where whispers abounded
…
Thoughts splashing flat against the sudden frost
Elbows falling beaten on the sides
metal cold bounderies and limbs
Thoughts’ drops flat and the unresponsive floor
…
What if I’m not able to move
to move away from here
from this torpid scene
…
Cerise colored drops flat against the floor
fingers reaching for paper
reaching for paper to clean up the mess
standing up again and steadily walking on these fancy hills of mine
