Reflections

Reflections

He is looking at a drop of water
that is rolling sloppily like blood or
oil. He can see himself inside
and all his smiles of pride
that are now certain to evaporate.
He sees himself twisted elaborate,
wetly entwined around
within, rolling to the ground,
and he can see love as
the drop glints like rough glass.
But he sees not why it must be,
or why he should bother speaking
when all that he can see
is that one leaking
drop.