Rivers For Mina Poem by Stephanie Souter

Is this correct?
For me to never have the river on my soft skin.
When the hour where the flow of warm water from within.... provides not a single drop.....am i to dismiss it. Am i to leave my bare skin dry. I do not want my snowy emotions to trample the beautiful daisy but when the time off need is calling to show my watery eyes. Not in a show of a reaction but of realness.
Even when the worst has really happened, the end of a standing tree. An old wise tree with a personality that could sooth the river to sleep. For when she lie in front of me with herself on display for the last time, i was not able to feed the river with anything other than the cookies served in the lobby. I am ashamed of this horrible dry desert.....no longer can i bare myself to not have the droplets. It is weird to say that i will let the river flow when there is no connection to the vast waters.

I grieve for the ones who can give water around me. Witch brings my own salty water to the edge of the lashes. But that is not how it is so pose to be.....
i need my own splash on the ground. My own wet pillow.