Thirst

One drop. So many hands.

Love grows from the heart. Thirst always knows where water lives.

Hands reach from below — black silhouettes... so many of them. They were reaching before the drop fell. They will reach after.

Paint lives in the body of the wall, in its cracks and pores.

Black lines cut diagonally — that is speed. Or limitation. Depends on which side you are on.

Everyone thirsts for love. Even this heart.