A Massive Body Of Water
By jkne John K. Neon WasilewskiWant to run into a tree so fast that I glimpse the solution. On my back with bark in my face with blood the darkness fades and stars appear.
After rising a deep breath and directionless. Nowhere to go except the sky that I’m in and it’s hitting my skin, finding a way in. Now move.
Cold thrill for these disjointed things that carry me. I live there and my body takes me. No one is there or around. Peaceful as I wished.
River has a dam and it does trickle being my drink. The taste, the purity, one drop is not enough. I want the reserve. All of it to do with.
The grey woman with her jug spurting lovely liquid as her own. I watch, drink from, sit with my back facing, skip around, and to the forest.
Grey and crazy. This was made long ago. Lichen has made it home. Grass helplessly hugs, helped by daytime. At night, watery bubbling.
Then, the pump was switched off. The pressure was gone. Now it’s all gone. That jug, that trickle, that river, that dam. I’m not a plumber.
You are the plumber!
-jkne
