Rushing through a hollow artery
Towards a drumming heart
Are feet, held stiff to the floor
Wax coats the ground
A bitter scent to it
But nobody around me budges
I come to a window
Breathing thin, shallow breaths
Watching the rain fall
The way it bends with wind
Cutting in a way it chooses
Scented with tranquility
I hold firm against the glass
Me a lone tree growing from wax floor
Cultivated with chaos.
