Distance was increasing in spewing rage.
I yearned for a solitude of desert sand and rocks
away from musty tongues and eros.
Counting my failed attempts to reconcile with exits and slant hopes.
Like an eclipsed moon plying over the hill to investigate a shorn lamb.
Plucking the hair from a beautiful scalp to become a nun.
Arthritic river brings back the waves.
Unreachable was the crest.
Today standing alone on the summit
I watch the drop with grief.