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

Saturday, April 7, 2012

An Ache.

I ache
as I stare down
my street
wishing I'd see
dark hair
blue eyes
laughing at me
like he does.
I ache
when I think
of how long it's been
the touch
and feel
and smell
of skin.
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3 comments:

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

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