Drip

Anna Rozwadowska
Jul 3, 2019 · 2 min read
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.

Stories display the dichotomy of true living; melting like asphalt,
trajectory of insipid nature, you create your cycle, it revolves, you undo.


Situated in grand schemes, tiny details accumulate into better,
you are the glass which reflects divisions, whole, yet, fragile in shattering,
bettering disputes with the other kind, call this evolution, drip like honey
running down~slowly~painfully~adherence~beauty~drip,
we are liquid form, solidify only your last sentence,
crushed as the seed of watermelons, discarded for what drips

down
your
grace.


Anna Rozwadowska

Written by

Top Writer in Poetry. I am a writer, photographer, psychic, medium, and spiritual guide.I have an M.A. in Environmental Sociology.

The New North

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