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I am the crumbled bank
of the restless river flowing through me the lonely one’s goad nestled its echo within my hands the seed secretly put by I randomly threw herbage sprang and fell in love with their roots and with the fretting of their pith delighting with the delusion that they are trees thirsty the black and white sentence of the life heaves more and more vertically but me tenacious going forward unto the end I’m helping it to fix its controversialist extremities it remonstrates not at all while laying a shadow like a red streak serpentine only by the last resonant storm of the last summer
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