Tuesday, July 12, 2011

parched.

Three days without water.
Drunk on air and sun-dappled leaves, 
but we're heading out to see
All the grains of sand that each could be
A dream undreamt by broken minds.
Lost in all this unchanged time,
these shards lay parched and confined.
Melded into a mirage that must show
All the dreams that we did throw,
Now that we’re dried up and ready to go.

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