An intimate hush,
Seeps into an eternal helix found high.
Entering self-conscious.
Circling the rim of infacuation.
The sound of your voice.
A gentle tapping.
A ripple, ambient to the puddle that drips.
As Continuous.
Errant in direction.
An echoing curvature.
Slowly eroding.
Leaving behind graphite.
As beads now stream, as a river.
No longer recluse,
As the puddle overflows into an ocean