water / ink the spill turned loon wing. bled through a shirt. bled through a brown paper towel. migration cancelled & put off till another more promising blue arrives. i'm a porch dweller. i picking the heads off future dandelions. my heart shed like a fountain when you over-turned. o my vase of lillies. o my brother blueberry thumb. blot the stars' tears with an extended finger. tear ducts swarming the moon. glossy insect beating into a warm bulb to make a nice red-splotch. pouring a glass of water into the carpet to help it drink. the house is thirsty from years of un-released gossip. tell me the truth about the stains on the wall, were you drawing war machines again? everything can be drown. blurred down to just the lines' mischeif. i get in a bathtub to watch my colors run. take a book in with me to drain words. only the water grips the original close to her chest. warbles with it then waltzes the final say. i could be kissing you right now & we wouldn't even know, would we? you could be stealing my bouquet of pens & i wouldn't even try to stop you. the morning is coming too early anymore. i ask for rain to smear the day shut. one day i will speak my name into a downpour & never have to worry about it again.