The morning fog rolled in like the undulating low tide.

Vete por aquí amorcito.

I can see the morning light consuming the streetlamp’s glow.

The buzzing dims.

The stench of wet asphalt stings my nostrils.

I dig my toes deeper into the dewy grass.

I taste the soil creeping through parted lips.

The birds retreat to their nests to greet the sun.

The quiet the new day brings burns inside my head.

Pebbles pelt me to shoo me off their sacred ground.


L ran to seek refuge and acceptance.

She will never find it.

I float off the earth and into the fog’s embrace.

Crack is an unusual drug.

Shelly warned me of that in the church basement.

She wanted me as her drug.

The train left the station at 6:00 am.

“All aboard” was the last thing she heard.

The sleek car filled with travelers’ hopes didn’t make it five miles.

The chintzy death.

She’ll have to be born again to remember her past life.

The deep mist penetrates my bones.

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