on the road
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A melancholy longing settles over the streets & avenues heading east, One third of tobacco in a pre-lit cigarette no longer satisfies rushing & starved organs,
We passed along the Colorado River many times that dark October night. And each time you said to me, "look for the water"— I called out to the darkness bound to the road and there was no reply.
With a Godly breathe he inhales the heavy, yet hollow whispers of the night siphoning the miniscule remnants of assurance loosely woven, each with its own cynical thread