The dead sun drew
a smile of blood across my face,
spoke to me through
the shadow of my voice:
“Man”, it said, “this might be next to nothing
and drawn through a bitter tap,
but it’s all you’ll ever have.
Don’t spill a drop.”
– John Glenday, from Grain, via Chris Floyd‘s ”Love and Strife: Don’t Spill A Drop”
the end
