last drop

I would question the sun’s motives were he situated different, in closer proximity to the earth. If I got close enough for the interview, I would get all the answers I need. My pen would melt before I got a word down. Awakened by brilliant light, see me run toward the darkness at dawn.

You would be waiting for me at the plateau, I know, the last drop of water on the edge of our collective sanity machine.

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