i think that my head was once empty bone.
and everything that goes in is liquid sprayed in all
directions. into my eye sockets and my ears and my mouth
and nose. and all this liquidy stuff drips around the
inside edges, settling in tiny crevices and cracks. and i
think that eventually the liquid gets gooey, starts to
evaporate, and leaves skeletal scketches of the shining
droplet that it once was behind to dull and age.
sediments of sentiment
and flakes of information
crusty memories in scattered pieces
drip dropping from the internal ceiling
to the bottom of my skull
where it builds up like stalagmites and stalagtites
because all the good, sparkling wetness
has evapotated into thin air.