A perfect death
for its almost nature

An effort towards
a injested jelly

Further a tearing white flash
and die just more

A dripping grin
toweling off

Spitting out
a barbwire breath
to begin again

The smell of
rust flavored grass
sand not yet glass

A dew
through hair
moved by dubbed wind
matching my musk

Bare knees
absent mind
unkempt
thoughts
not kept

Two eyes
look back
miss each other
and keep going

We
are
All
Right.