lost in the desert

wet crossroads escape their package trash
gifted bits
traffic with of our concerns we
are captured to atone daily
he drags her out and
we all go with
counterfeited bitterness
growing which gifted bitterness almost a little of the
wreckage we
arrive at a
landscape the
hot desert
by the pit of debt
no regret
with unknowing deeper and liquid men with
lands
of fruit we
are only
the raw
flesh
salt and at the crossroads
escape
the fetes burst
in laughter
the face of the
west crushed her and
the voluptuousness
out of the center
caught her

.