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It's like a little leaf, it's blowing in the wind of a huge dark city.
It's very cold but it still floats on.
The leaf is yellow and brown and it's autumn.
It makes music as it gently glides down a wall,
little rasping noises, a noisemaker.
The ground is pavement, thick black oozing blocks of it.
The rain and the light-posts are making a light show.
It is an amazing illusion.

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Every drop is electricity, like a lighting it shoots into the ground.
Ink and water, a flowing touch of streams.
Ink and water
Ink and water
Ink and water
Ink and water

It moves perfectly.

Loving little thuds as rubber and stone meet each other.
Loving and caring thuds taking you home.
His fingers are creased and dry. They're in the pockets.
A little note, yellow, blue, glue.
Cold keys next to a warm body.

It's sitting on the train and only seeing your reflection in the glass when you go into a tunnel.
It's seeing a spider-web and decide not to rip it.
It's to deserve a chocolate because you have been diligent on your diet.
It's smoking because you love it.
It's watching horror films to feel safe.
It's kissing someone so that they kiss you back.

Ink and water,
Spirals and solar-flares,
Fiddlers-Green and flowers.

It's having babies because you care for the future in a world that is suffocating.
It's loving honey,
It's hating money,
It's the only rhyme on this page.
It's posting a smiley when you're actually not...