The dripping tap keeps
time as we quarrel.
Beats of eight, a half
and then the length again.
The tank empties, words
Chloride stains the basin.
Silence runs down a cheek,
salting our impasse.
Seems like it’s been ages since I visited this blog. Tap keeping time with arai edam – loved the idea!
Beautiful — silence running down the cheek, beautiful!
Vidya: 🙂 thank you!
first time visitor and I am hooked to your poetry you weave magic !!
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