Photo by Alec Favale on Unsplash

Rye

Frozen amber swirled, fingers wet, unfurled.

I’m just sitting here trying to race the rye.

Snaking and swirling down, down, down.

Down into the red velvet caves that reverberate.

Sailing through the wrinkled folds of thoughts untold.

Trying to just figure out what the fuck is going on.