We opened our sores as long forgotten eyes

on the humps of our backs,high on the backs of memory’s rise,
[as targets at firing range; a scaly solution]

Soldiered as mountains, yonder
thru mountain pass, and again;

Obliterated bodies, and seaswallowed destinies
come to an end,
die along sunken dry keel of bloodcanyons echo, AHH!
                        [as other such scattered stories go]
,skeleton carriages strewn carelessly—from years above
        appear as bonepimples and dot history’s ridged, mule-like spine;

Messengers thru ancient highway passages: no water to be found,

but, like he told me,
‘WATER
is simply a state of mind’