Parched

190080

I was working on something from a few years back. Prose in the prosiest sense. Then, this stanza showed up. Ridiculously trite and full of imagery. I’m tossing it out, it doesn’t belong, but I like it! It sort of epitomizes my primary relationship the last decade or so. However, in this particular bit I am working on, it doesn’t belong. Sometimes words do that. Characters do that, too. So, I will share these words and find different ones for the prose in progress. (although, I just discovered the layout was totally skewed when I copied and pasted. EWWWW! Will do it one word at a time!)

Frustrated, I watch memories of yesterday                                                                                                     Build up behind tomorrow’s dam.                                                                                                                        Filling today’s reservoir until

They spill from a stagnated soul,                                                                                                                A shimmer  on cemented soil.

And I remember. Do you?  

 

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