Parched Sense

exhale

water droplets quivering on

the edge of

skin

i see the world through

a molassesed

blink

inhale

through cracked ice lips

the words

burn

ragged, listening

with poverty’s

ear

exhale

the stench of deserted bygones

a trail of

dreams

breaking down in

dust, hope I don’t

forget to

breathe.

3-8-04