[jon, you invited me here a long time ago and its time i finally did something abt it.]
a freewrite on water.
why does it seem that these creative flashes
stem from a rusted, leaky faucet
drip drop
another line falls down the drain
drip drop
another line lost in a day
a cloudy sky filled with monotony
when the condensation of the concentration of the juice from the mind is finally too much to bear...
the lines just fall from the sky,
from the clouds on up above,
the concentration of creativity and love
rain on a sunny day.
when it rains, it pours.
1 comment:
niice!
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