That factory for wet plants
ambitious midlifers
and a man slow to mature
sleeping in the present
sun knocked against the entrance driveway
Trucks rolled in and emptied
our bodies too
april was an eternity
The river where I took it from
washed some of my sins away
the rest stained me above my skin
and the locals could smell it presently
I was lost against those volcanic rocks
one of those days I died or killed
or blended into heavy layers
of cold hard frustration
The water clear those long leaves as hair
water ways haunting each minute in sleep
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