Seven billion raindrops
Percolate the surface;

A pond of interference.
Noise obscures

Surface tension in a
Fight to be noticed.

Does one minuscule
Wave change

Anything? Enjambed
Voices blend as it

Pools beneath
Wilting; a struggle

Against plummeting
Toward its demise —

A gentle certainty:
Marks will dissipate

Because can’t you see?
Even tears larger

Than your own
Splashed with significant

Force, yet in the end
Affected not one

Reformation. The lost
Battle, a still

Puddle, forgotten in
An immense universe.

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