Come hither water, don’t hesitate at my threshold, I have cleared my kitchen, doesn’t matter if I can’t use my gas stove because of you. I have rolled up the carpets, my bed and the bags too are half-packed; not that I am going away somewhere but only because I have to keep space for you to be with me at least three more days or until the rain stops altogether. I may spend the night in some other lane with the stray dog or cat for company so that you may seep in smoothly to run your watery kingdom upon my pillows and mattresses. Someone is crying, can you hear that? Maybe you mistake it to be a stray dog whining in some pain. No, it isn’t, but never mind, water dear. The dirt and the debris of plastic and sewage are mixed up too well. You can’t pick up the dead from those that are hardly alive. And this particular smell! Can you smell it? Oh, how will you, my dear water? You have lived so long with it! You are quite used to it. But never mind. We will need just a few more showers to make us get used to it. Meanwhile, go on, enter my threshold and remain indoor as long as you wish. Amen
Posted on: Sat, 05 Jul 2014 13:30:17 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015