Acoustics

Up late culling metric feet as sex slices through
fiddle music fresh flowers in the wind. I've filled out
forms for house repairs, the jeweled water shooting
straight from the hot water heater, little beadlets
forming on the ceiling, rivulets disappearing into
baseboards sweetly tucked white there for all
posterity, just nailed down right.

Clicked on send.  The next phone ring will come
too early, a cold shower will be friend of the day.