Ripples distort my face

Is it the rain that trickles down my cheek? Are the clouds  Dark in the sky too? Accumulated rain create an amoebic puddle And the ripples Pulsate like a heartbeat It’s alive  It reflects  Sometimes the real  Sometimes the distorted It’s just the ripple Like a gruesome thought That changes  My face in the puddleContinue reading “Ripples distort my face”