we all look like burnt books
blowing in the breeze.
i’m wafting with the exhumed memories.
before my legs even hit the dew,
you watch me dwindle to
a million floating pieces.
the contract ascertained a certain
ephemeral appeal and
I’m too thirsty to complain
about anything but the heat in here.
hold your breath
for some other current to take me.
there are no exits.