This is the start.
There is a hole in the water. And so it starts.
Before it starts. We spit. Before we spit, we need to fill our mouths with fluids, and to do so, we need to think of something we desire. Maybe something that we have longed for a long time. Maybe we crave something just now because our stomachs are rumbling—the spit filling our mouths. The tongue moves through the gap and wets our lips. The desire grows, and so do our mouths. Every thought that creates an ache fills them up. They resemble miniature oceans, worlds for themselves. We spit, and the oceans are flowing.
This is the start.
There is a hole in the water. And so it pours.