day 261

We let fly the sprinkles,
slip by, bypass the air
And unto dry skin.

Trinkle, twinkle - curl like a ball
flow down, shot through
But empty from within.

Wrinkled, rekindled, tears to mind,
and before they dropped further,

you raise your salted chin.

And dry the words to begin akin


We let fly...

We let fly... ...