Trimber

Buried thickets.

Obscuring wind.

Fragrance of flowers,

Dust on the pillow.

Whispered words.

Soliloquy of summer.

Turbid heat-risers,

Succulent tender-tastes.

Cactus prickles,

Hot breath run ragged,

Crumbling mountains climb.

West sun fading.

Deserted dusk-wraps,

Sealed with a dry kiss.

Peace.

Night is upon us.

 

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