Friday, June 19, 2009
 | Flip flops in the desert burns my toes. Sand seeps in and raws my feet slow. Sun beats down and draws my sweat. Into my eyes my view gets distorted. A blue pool dancing in the distance. My stagger worse as I walk on and on. Jeans soaked through do little to cool. Lips cracked and rough with no words. Face red and beginning to blister fast. Shirt sleeves torn to cover my head. The only shadow is that of the birds. Mouth dry and throat filled with cotton. Rocks litter my path and tear my knees. No matter the stumble I move myself on. If I fall I want nothing to nourish vultures. |
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