Drip drip. Drip. Dripdripdripdrpripripipipi.i.i… Drip drip drip as it slips all it’s secrets, secrets slipped from the lip of the rusty metal moldy faucet, water whispers water whimpers water wishes of a time long gone; dripping water ever swirling round the beaten bolted sink; bolted to a wooden floor, chipped and nicked and cracked but grips, it grips the sink and won’t let go; secrets swirling round the sink into the void and through the pipes beneath the wooden boards of floor which would let loose their life-long grip of one worn and weathered tired tethered reddish tinted rusty sink if only it - the wood! - if only it could leave the floor; the wood would stand and stretch and scratch and then would walk right out the door; wooden boards held hostage by the many nails nailed years ago. Creaking boards tell tales to pipes which snake throughout the secret house; Drip drip dripdripdrip. Dripipip i i…
Hush the whisper of the wind through broken windows rattles timber breaks the slumber of the man whose face is etched and leathered ever marked by hands of time; time played games the game of life the old man thought and thinks he still can stand and stretch and scratch then walk straight through the door and out the house, like secrets lost in rusty pipes he thinks he’ll walk into the dark and be whisked off on wings of wind which carries whispers rattles windows speaks in drips through rusty lips of a bolted sink gripped by the floor forever more and so the man will sit and think and think and think andrip drip drip dripdripipip i i i...
Excellent write!