Slender Hands  Nimble, Even

Moisture,
appears at the corners
of your eyes appearing
 as condensation spilling
 from your mouth,
 
Tiny beads form, watering
 the black rose,  her vines
 grow  around the narrow river
now swollen,  with the sounds
 of adulterated  juvenile insanity..

Thorns like thick tongues, break
apart the monotonous rage.
Severed sky losing pieces of itself
Into thoughts for tomorrow

Slender hands, nimble even
 grabs your life throws it nto
yesterdays pocket

Trying to hold onto something
 to remember you by before
it fades
Washing it's color into the
 familiar hues of resentment