In Words Of A Shell...

Obsession they call it,
Maddening it seems,
It flares and burns,
And yet I seek that speck of smoke.

“Invisibility asks herself
When her lake seems empty”

Probably water never has a source,
It’s born to flow;
There is no from or to.

It awaits a revival…
Of closed water spaces,
And dreams of the untouched,
And the latent;
Hiding the weeds that long
For bubbles of air.

The moon glamorizes the
Tender touch,
As long and short tides entangle
In their rhythms.

And…
Shakespeare’s sonnets still
Reverberate in the mermaids’ hymns,
As couplets merge into the songs of
Involuntary beats.

Storms rise and fall;
Rains soak and dry;
Oceans merge and break.

But the empty lake that
Started from Nadir still
Flows…

And it will…forever

Emptiness doesn’t need a reason
To commit another crime…

Let gratification be blamed for
The unlived Shakespeare’s life.