Torrents Of Sand In The Palm Of A Hand

Barely halfway through the desert
I heard the echoes of an empty tank
confirming my life had been fucked
by a jittery needle.
I drifted like a boat to the edge of the sandy
road and regretted throwing my phone
when I decided to run.

I set a blanket up like an awning
to hide from the sun my trip was done.
I was way too far from anywhere.
I had half a bottle of water
that was slowly cooking away
I couldn’t stay but there was nowhere
I could go.

After a while my mind took on a new
kind of flow, and without water
I could see past all reality.
As the obvious sights began to fall
into the background I remembered
how the desert was used as a place
of awakening.

Snakes eating themselves while
their fangs cut small lines into
their tails while they inhaled them
past their jaws until they were
nothing but dead knots
left in the sand.

The sky was purple and I could see
myself within it, but it wasn’t me
it was someone I had never seen before.
It lowered down its hand creating torrents
with the sand and with every breath I took
I started dying.

I dropped myself from that place above
that was made from some distorted love,
and when I awoke at my place by the road
I felt engines approaching.

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