Aquarian Conversation

Ice is funny in how it moves things
changing physically,
gaseous and fluid.
Hard to find better solubility.

But in myself I am arid,
starved of any blessed
hydration.

I’d pour away at myself,
little by little, until you’d
think I’d be plyable,
but I’m vacant.

Tell me, Water Bearer,
precious liquid in tow,
do you laugh at me
in your strange rhythmic
misunderstanding?

Your words splatter off
the page, ungrateful
lyrics like the miserable
siren, unhappy her
would-be -lover
escaped.

I am confused at your
behaivor. Why evoke
a monster unseen?

I will weather the desert,
take apart the days
long sung under the brightest
star, resplendent,
statuesque.

Find for you a mind unfallible,
rest among your comforts,
and breathe in all that
splendor.

We both know what then awaits.

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