R-K-L

There are pebbles underfoot I've been kicking them for an hour now. The sun, like a diamond, burrowing burrowing I shut my eyes and the world goes sideways; the colors of vomit: blue against red. My second skin is running; I am a candle dripping into my shadow. The highway shoulder flexes leaden corpuscles out into the sky. No sign of a car, nothing but seven miles of heat before anything. I check my pockets for the 15th time and come up with the same sweat-soaked square of paper labeled: Camel. I squash it so that its mouth leans open: nothing. My face is old. Seven days of dirt, hate and head creeps; a headache screams behind my ey

There are pebbles underfoot I've been kicking them for an hour now. The sun, like a diamond, burrowing burrowing I shut my eyes and the world goes sideways; the colors of vomit: blue against red. My second skin is running; I am a candle dripping into my shadow. The highway shoulder flexes leaden corpuscles out into the sky. No sign of a car, nothing but seven miles of heat before anything. I check my pockets for the 15th time and come up with the same sweat-soaked square of paper labeled: Camel. I squash it so that its mouth leans open: nothing. My face is old. Seven days of dirt, hate and head creeps; a headache screams behind my ey