A confluence of those
who followed the river's flow,
This power of growth,
One that could build a city,
That frigid feeling,
Pulsing deep in your being,
Causing the desire to burn,
To stay with escaping breath.

A misstep, cool golden bubbles,
now flowing over the concrete,
An awkward laugh and glance,
Your tousled hair, streaming over your eyes,
This moment searing so deeply,
Will quickly be a drop of time,
Lost in the ocean of your mind.