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May 2016
Seven drops of rain
  sliding slowly down a windowpane
    creating their own currents out of chaotic sky
  perambulating through the reflection of my eye.

Two collide and five remain
  slipping through a beige, unsuitable frame
    reach the bottom and seem to die
  my watercoloured conceivances drip but never fly

Trickles become one pool - a picture I can't explain
  but within dark waters, a swirling hurricane
    those tears kiss distinction goodbye-
  surrender to let my disordered painting unify.
Written by
Pearl Ra1n
680
 
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