Drip.Drip. Drop.
My ears prick up at the passing sound.
Where have I heard it before? I recognize this round of syllables,
the rhythms the same.
I send neurons like shock waves, a million scenes fit the frame.
It matches the product of sunlight and ice,
a desperate spear, crying, clinging, begging for life.
Wants to keep on stalking from his chimney ledge, his melting that bangs on the sidewalk like a boom.
Drip. Drip. Drop.
Inevitable that spring must bloom.
Then again it sounds an awful lot like your sweat on my skin as you hover above,
keeping pace with me making me quiver not once but twice back to back
with your face to mine
deeper in and we sing to imagine the luck
Yeah it could be the product of one awesome...
Fast forward, the source may come after
as a tear escapes into the dark blue carpet.
But that probably muffles the pound.
Not loud enough for this culprit,
that Drip. Drip. Drop.
Streams down my face barely heard through your snoring.
No come to think reminds me more of a titled bottle,
contents pouring into glass followed by fizzy giggles.
A Caribbean heatwave, make it a double, triple, octuple just multiply til we're sick
Numbers melt with each shot glass and equal up to a fifth.
This lullaby, this enchantment, a merry-go-round trip to anything but vacation.
This Drip. Drip. Drop.
Eventually the bottom comes up.
The sound isn't this lost,
it's more like a tidal wave, direct and headstrong.
A wave tumbling out of an above ground pool as chlorine water makes a splash.
Unwanted yet trusted the wound seeps like a gash, turns this tide crimson,
diffusing around us til the pink barely tints the drops that run wild.
Those Drip. Drip. Drops.
Innocence of a child stolen.
No that doesn't connect to this cadence I'm hearing
as I walk past the post office steps on campus, making my way back from class.
This music I'm recalling all comes from my past and THIS.
This is more like a yet-to-be.
Made of familiar rhythms but beats new to me.
Less fearful and dark,
less rushed and impatient,
not the feet tapping timing of earlier places.
Yeah its more honest and peaceful- music filled with grace.
This sound isn't one of falling but of refusal to stop.
Drowning out other memories that may come to mind.
Its a kind of rebirth
in a Drip. Drip. Drop.
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