The August sunline peels the line between liberation
and warmth; half-baked sand, a canopy
to incubate freedom before fall.
Hands part the way for whims of afterthought;
believing and becoming something once famed.
The sky blue, and littered with garbage-
soured milk bottles, chinese take-out cartons, bottlecaps
and letters.
Factually told, these things don't exist: denial depression for
those in power.
These things,
they just
don't
exist.