Drip

Anna Rozwadowska
New North

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Marcello Castellani

Warm milk drips like melted wax unto your undue clothing,
honeydew drips with delicacy upon your battered lips;
cold now from the shift to despondency; you enjoy regardless,
trickling sensations as electricity terrifies at night, midnight, dark halos,
swollen fingers can no longer grasp the pen, leaking ink all over your
pristine clothing, leaking the grappling of life, embellished with salvation.

How do ships in distant seas commune with the waters?
No control, dissolving into dripping saltwater on planks; objects of purification,
tear bellows as it slides down your eye~ messages from heart’s inclination.

Dissolve, dissolve into the earth, into the sea, into fantasy,
dissolve because solid is for those who choose the world,
heightened Spirits revolve around air, semi-conscious are dropped
into pools of percolation~ how bound are you, really?

Remind yourself of being, reincarnated, tempting of soul to join life,
rescind fascination with the un-being, you are tethered to greetings,
goodbyes.

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Anna Rozwadowska
New North

Owner, Editor of Storymaker, Hallow Literary, Literally Literary. Top Writer in Poetry. Writer, photographer, psychic, medium, and spiritual guide. M.A., Ph.D.