Drip-Drip
By
Leslie Selbst
It’s dark and cold in here… but I
like it like this,
I hang like a bat from the roof of
my cave
while gazing down at my lover
directly below,
Drop by drop we reach out to
one-another,
for one thousand years we’ve
waited,
Only several feet have we managed
thus far,
but grow closer with each year.
Perhaps in another thousand we
might embrace,
Oh how rapturous that would be,
when lovers for each drop must
wait?
A kiss I blow - as we grow,
a stalactite and stalagmite.
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