early morning
sunlight
clinging
to her
bare back
and
skinny hips
she wasn't
thinking much
about her
future
or what would
come next
she just felt
the deep
muggy
pull
of
a queer
hope
for something
she had
never seen
before
sure
she was
walking
barefooted
where the
swans
swam
everyone
had told her
don't go walking
over
there
by swamps
but she
did it
anyway
so
does
this make it
her fault
mercy
a lot
happens
on the
other side
of
tracks
where
swamps
canals
gulls
purple
silver
trash
shards
of beer
bottles
aluminum cans
are piled
you can find her
on a Sunday
look for some
lawn art
a lopsided windmill
made of pipes
a mosaic of colors
bouncing off
an Easter glass bottle tree
you probably have seen her
walking
she vapes
to quell
her shattered nerves
I can't lie, that woman's vape
smells good
like she has wrapped her body
inside the woody scents of grape vines
smelling fruitier
than a bowl
of fruity pebbles
leaving a trail
of smoke
thicker than a
diesel
engine
as her
long sandy
brown hair
falls across
her pretty face
women like
her get talked
about in small towns
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