Waterfall

I watch it fall glistening, bulbous and ferociously small. I feel it speak of unspeakable reasons for its birth. Globules of salt in its wound seeking a sanctuary a restful place. I feel it fall on a soft pillow of the flesh of my face battered and so warm so used abused and yet it has a place there of a family gone before dried remnants of previous experience. I fall into the clutches and catch them all silently as I hold them gather them. Safe in the familiarity.