"The desert bears only a scathing sun, and nothing more."
"What about mirages?"

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Strange Feelings.

Passing boxes,
focused on the task you demand
we brush hands,
and I feel
something
I have never felt before.
A warm comfortable ache.
A deep firm embrace.
A kindred spirit
perhaps
I feel
something
I have never felt before.

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"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."