eleven.

concealer smudged under heavy eyes focusing on passing weeds known as bluebonnets endless kindness and generosity but a horrific mind thats inconsolable walk the ‘camino pequeno’, as my aunt says we’ll find stones of luck and prosperity if only we were that lucky with a psyche as endless as the oceans, i’ll give you a good sunday afternoon neither of us notice the car race past stuck on the patter of our own feet