z cold sun sweeps, burning stem and flaw, raining windless susurrus on sleeping grasses, no way to see the smiles, wincing and panting under the punishment, lowering the eye mind towards brown earth, the crumbles grit toes and puff dust into tears, i lie, cartouche bedded, in the hollow of the standing heath, seed heads high around me and tickling my skin 120726
what's it to you?
who go