I cry with the clouds

Poem about water.


1. I Cry With The Clouds



I squeeze the supplies with my death grip until they swell and plump, fit to burst.


Lips cracked,

Skin scabbed,

Eyes crusted over with salt –

I scrape my teeth across my tongue until it throbs and doubles in fatness.


Fat lakes,

Juicy fruit,

Thick clouds,

The oozing drizzle of rain.


I mustn’t, so I won’t.

I can’t, so I don’t.


I watch helplessly, try hopefully,

To keep my thirst under control,

as the rain drip-drips onto my head and slides

down my skin in vines and valleys.

Onto my lips.

Over my eyes,

Into forever and ever

 as I cry in my thirst with the clouds.



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