There’s
something about your crusty edges.
Blue plaster chipping white.
Your sunken lines,
Algae staining your porcelain form.
Vigorously flowing
You spewed promise.
And with every coin tossed some sweet dream
created.
Now you stare into nothingness.
Hunched over, cracked.
Waters have ceased to flow through you.
Only a shallow grey pool remains,
Stickers litter your face.
Names of lovers mark your age.
Pieces of someone left in your shallow pool
Have floated to the bottom,
A kaleidoscope of shimmering wishes.