I used to water my speculation, mixing it with liquid imagery..
then I'd blend it around with subtle stirrings of my thought.
Watching it change from a blank emotion, to something more.
Collecting I used my fingers clasping a way to collect a thin
film of musing swirls and then I'd gently blow..
Little shimmers would collect, floating delicately around
my head. Rainbows of perception, gently encompassing
a moment of a clear rendition. but a reflection only stains
the image held for so long till it dulls in moments before
evaporating in to tears of mist decaying into oblivion.
But then that place where my perceiving waters gently
flowed now seemed more arid than what was previously
perceived. No longer did rainbows form spherically..
No I was just a salt lake of tears, collecting white flakes
of bleached nothingness. My moment was weak, last week
I was serenading imagery now I'm just a dry lake bed.
"My words floated, but now there just dry renditions of
a drought going on in my thoughts"
"Were sometimes to thirsty, not realizing that we drank
to fast and the basin of our thoughts have run dry"