dust and dust and dust
5
10
15
dust and dust, once a thin veil, now
a sand-blasted pattern on the skin,
worn deep into his leather-flesh.
he has wandered along and along,
dancing up and down a country avenue,
hard clock-clock on asphalt like hooves.
sometimes he cries, his skin cracking,
pavement days withering away his soul;
tumbling and tumbling forward and forward.
leaning into his brother, a silly comfort,
stubborn twins who always travel together
but he is much more abused than the other.
he does not know how old he is anymore;
moments speeding by inside a cloud of
dust and dust and dust.
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