she sighs.
she
puts her hand
to her chin.
the yard
is green
and lush,
her life
is brown and
dry.
there must
be more.
something
out there
waiting to lift
me
past myself,
someone.
the afternoon
is long
and hot,
the night
even longer.
tomorrow,
she says out
loud to no one,
tomorrow.
Friday, August 8, 2014
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