It has been long, this silence
Words pursed on lip edges that round with smiles instead of saying what needs to be said
Dust here, really
Drawing circles with found sticks that whisper stories of gusty gales and fruit that hung too heavy
Circles turn to cyphers that I use to channel this lack of thought
I need a taste, just one
Something sweet and sticky
Someone worthwhile and not too picky
For my standards lay between these stories and me