I used to water my speculation,mixing it with liquid imagery.. then I'd blend it around with subtle stirrings of my thought. Watching it change from a blank emotion, to something more. Collecting I used my fingers clasping a way to collect a thin film of musing swirls and then I'd gently blow..
Little shimmers would collect, floating delicately around my head. Rainbows of perception, gently encompassing a moment of a clear rendition. but a reflection only stains the image held for so long till it dulls in moments before evaporating in to tears of mist decaying into oblivion.
But then that place where my perceiving waters gently flowed now seemed more arid than what was previously perceived. No longer did rainbows form spherically.. No I was just a salt lake of tears, collecting white flakes of bleached nothingness. My moment was weak, last week I was serenading imagery now I'm just a dry lake bed.
"My words floated, but now there just dry renditions of a drought going on in my thoughts"
*"Were sometimes to thirsty, not realizing that we drank to fast and the basin of our thoughts have run dry"