Writhe

A drop of oil into the basin.
Twist, writhe and never touch

the bottom,
where we wait like spring

or some other sensation.
Want me, need me and never have.

Drunk and harmonious,
gaping like a chasm

Or an ocean
churning with a fatal flow.

A drop of blood falls out of the water,
And you lament; wishing to have it back.

* This poem is based on a threewordwednesday.com prompt. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s