Rivers are flowing within.
Swollen tip has been toughly aching,
Numbness seems to be dominating
Yet continuously finding the headwaters of river,
Running through, flowing permeably.

Grasping as it wonders when it will be truly found,
Crying out heart’s true deepest desires. Trudging up a steep trail,
Freudian slips as tongue’s weeping,
On other hand, thrusting the tip of one’s iceberg.

Apparently consumed over its power
But giving such soothing impalpable warmth of a lover.
Lying on seabed of embers,
Head over heels, asking:
Am I wandering in a milky dream again
Or is it just the caffeine that rushes through me at the moment?