Middle of Nowhere


Twirl your braid in a bun
expose the back of your neck
so droplets of water from my
mouth can touch yours and
breathe into your soul. Let me
tell your secrets that your
afraid to say.

I am in the middle of nowhere spouting out of a wooden stick.
My town has been here for 74 years, dead for 20. The sight of you,
the way your eyes examine each 
and every detail astounds me.
You must love it here even though bad things have happened here.

A white bird sits atop your shoulder. You must be something
special, I hear it in the way your wheels creak every time you move. Even when
you dance
I watch the way you smile though lips curl upright
your dimples have so much depth - you
amaze me.


I hope you know that you are something else.
The crisp air is stronger when you are around.

The water coming out of me
gets more intense.

I hope you come around more often.


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