by June 22, 2018 0 comments

we pinch with our eyes
the sight of the long horizon
spilling out this glow
to all sides of us
and the clouds move in tantrums
like snakes
like the tails of cats
thrashing in slow motion
and our motion slows
into this desert of ourselves
we find only mirages where
we should have been
we do not drink even when
all we know is thirst.

editors note:

Mirage or mirror, this sip of existence is hard to swallow. – mh clay

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