a terrible turn of events:
the crops failed
the rain ate at my clothes
the breeze has become an asphyxiant
specks of dirt in a baby blue sky
draw long lazy circles overhead
news of atrocities from far off lands
are suddenly not so alien anymore
who knew it would come to this:
the body turning on itself
or the all-too-late realization of a pool of water
that it has evaporated
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