Salt is the remainder of the waterfalls
which flowed down her cheek not long ago.
Canyons now line her arm, and rivers have formed at the bottom of some,
made of not water, but blood;
Like some distant nod towards a religion
which she has no faith in.
She feels the gentle breeze of her breath on her chest,
like an eerie wind blowing through a ghost town.
Her mind - the town center - is quiet and deserted now.
The once overpowering voices have retreated to their houses;
Whispering plans of their next storm.
The creation of the canyons; the formation of the rivers; the brief appearance of the waterfalls are all destruction in disguise.
And one day the aftermath will be too great to undo.
~E.Y.
Inspiration of style from Map Woman by Carol Ann Duffy