her lips curl
the way jungle leaves fold.
hungry for water

parted perfectly to dragg each drop.downwards towards the stems
and dark substrate.

you may think they get enough. the way the rains come
the way the soil gets soaked each time.
yet, glossy plastic sheets everready
for more, present to it.
putting the wet spoon back into the sugar, irreverent to anyone else.

at least. thats the way it looks in the old nat geo magazines i remember holding up to my face.a long time ago.