The Dryness
She walks away
Down the long, straight road
Under a pure blue sky,
Under the bright yellow sun.
Shadows creep from the edges,
To mark the sun’s place,
And she recedes with the perspective of the scene.
The air is dry.
The pavement is dry.
The skin of my hands feels dry.
I have to consciously draw the warm,
Dry air into my lungs.
She never looks back.
Girls never do.
Everything ends in this terrible dryness.