Soft soapy water

spilling through my outstretched hand

so hard to hold

like windblown smoke

or shifting sand.

 

Whispererd voices

without sesitivity or grace

while practiced smles

conceal the lie

behind each shining face.

 

Soft soapy water

filtering through my wearying hand

dissolves my innocence,

while gods own godless daughter

asserts her cold controll.

 

Windblown smoke and shifting sand

no bedrock for a fragile land.;