I sweat.
I swallow.
The air billows over me,
and my thighs strain and burn
under September sun.
We are miles away,
and alone until the horizon;
we are like scuff marks against Earth,
pushing answers into our bones.
I sweat.
I swallow.
The air billows over me,
and my thighs strain and burn
under September sun.
We are miles away,
and alone until the horizon;
we are like scuff marks against Earth,
pushing answers into our bones.