Saturday, April 25, 2009

eighteen miles

our hands
were swollen

finger balloons
each a shiny red
skin -
pulled tight
surface -
smooth

our mouths caught

a collection of:
concrete
chamomile, dry brush
manzanilla
horse shit
dust ridden
Pacoima heat

shoulders rounded
hands on our hips
we walked
stretched beyond our means
we ran
to the dam,

damn.

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