Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
A puddle, a river.
The steady flows weighs it down and pushes the liquid forward, forward.
Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
It pools.
There’s no incline here, but the constant beat of drops from high suggest movement to the mindless substance. It is a liquid zombie. Moving forward. Conquering space.
Drip...
Against the concrete, it looks black. It is not. Dip your fingers into it. Catch a drop before it crashes to the floor. Your fingerprints fill, inked up for identification. Hold it to the light.
Red.
Crimson red.
Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
The river dams around your feet. Your shoes aren’t white on the bottoms anymore. Raspberry lava. Ruby wine. A rust coloured waterway, snaking out, escaping the coldness of its host.
Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
You look up. A shadow. The dull glinting of still wet eyes. A terracotta smile splashed across pale skin. Ivory vertebra show through from where a voice once resided.
Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
Every drop falls into the puddle with a splash. Smaller drops rise, displaced. Not wanting to look up you focus on this.
Each drop.
A perfect bloody rose.
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