deep

Come out of your tunnel, and taste the rain. These bleak, gastric undulations that pull you in, that you wander through unimpeded yet ducking – they keep you humble like an earthworm, like a troll hovering for a handout. Riches are not forthcoming, nothing will come your way but the pennies falling through cracks. Come out, let your back even out, crack those vertebrae, let the sun cauterize your rancid wounds, finger the dew that dribbles off the edge of a leaf. Every bend brings a weary new sameness. Every muted gray, feathered tendril of marauding root, crumb of obstreperous soil brings around a circular tangle of not again here we go and nothing ventured nothing gained. Hear the rain, climb up, and out, drown in the hard wet drops that want only to bash in your brains, tunnel into the lines of your diminishing face, puddle in your eyes. Taste it, and let the rain shape your dreams, then put your foot to the test, follow the rain running rivulets in the dirt and revel in the mud, it colors your world and rainbows shift in the folds of conquest.