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?