a stone in a river, 8

Drunk men stand too close & ask for direction. Passive-aggressive, I say no. Then tell them to cross the tracks. They look native, sepia skin, narrow sun-slit eyes. I was born here, too, twice. Then flew. Died my hair. Bought sunglasses to lose. Assumed a damp identity covered with a thousand mosses.

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4 thoughts on “a stone in a river, 8

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