is the sponge dry?
Every ounce, every drop is precious.
When you lay your head down,
will you say,
did I?
Did I squeeeeze every drop?

How many pearls roll into the gutter…
The chorus will sing to her last breath,
oh heart, turn and say –
Squeeze, every ounce, every drop is precious.

Oh my I, my me, my who, my questions,
tangled in spaghetti words we are…
take the discarded me, and the well kept I and say;
Squeeze – every ounce, every drop is precious.

As harsh as wires wrapped tightly around my wrists,
her throat is dry
You look down, pen to paper but even with the dearest heart it’s gone.
We gamble an hour and somewhere,
she’s screams.

And they are present, immersed in writings,
decaying in open fields,
humming ‘we were here, we stood in flight’.
Oh heart, turn and say – it’s only a single dance,
every ounce,
every drop
is precious.