Waterfall

It thunders, it is like the blood of angels, the tears of silence, it is cold and wet like a dead lover's embrace, it is sharp and bracing, like a pike. Tonight, we sit, we drink the memory of time gone down the drain, we laugh at the past, we raise our eyes to the future. And it rains.

It rains, it rains, the wind blows and the dogs are silent. On a night in the distance, the planet was lonely, the travellers were stale, the wisdom was pilloried in the desert. Who knows whether a countenance is mournful without cause?

Tonight I will sleep the sleep of the just, and if I am squeezed flat flush against a wall, I will wake justified. Tomorrow is here already and it was only yesterday once more. When you have eaten the chocolate of the ancient continent, nothing is ever the same. Strawberries and Mrs Field's forever.