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hairs prickled to the sizzling heat of the sun
melting in the warmth of speckled laughter and having fun
she clasped her hands together and reached out to the sky
wondered about the freedom she'd have if she could fly
her throat itched for water, a cool wash to the day
a much needed wake up call even if she had nothing to say
she spoke in a soft tone to protect all her words
they stuttered and scrambled then flew off with the birds
and this icky feeling started to take over her hands
so she patted them dry on the swimming snake of sands
and touched her forehead, droplets dripping above her brow
waterfalls into rivers into the taps that you use now
the huge body of water flushing down from her cheeks
and the symphony of waves crashing down on the creeks
use it carefully because there is not much to spare
it is absolutely vital but the world doesn't seem to care
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YOU ARE READING
Enigma
Poetryshe was lost in the melodrama of her thoughts they were caught in a web of all sorts
