cannonball bodies in stagnant ponds tossed-out towels under browning legs fluttered words and humid spit-kisses mean that for now our stray-mutt mouths are fed
discarded burnt butts and whisper-splash bottles angry coffee caked on tires from nights of broken speedometers and a.m. dinners frustrated waitresses and chuckling short-order chefs shadow the backs of polaroids
august breaks in, with cars on lawns and weeks with relatives. the sun sets early and the moon predictably dims. our blood hardens, and we all stop simply flowing.
june is born and our arteries melt again watch hands are ripped off pagers recycled clouds make critters and our coughs make clouds
lazy insects and sweat sit on eyebrows above wayfarers, reflecting summer’s praying, under black glass, youth decaying
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