She whipped the peeled bamboo cores on the wire fence Hard The sand blew up shrouding her face storming An inhale sputtered into heavy cough Watermark trails streak a shade lighter Dusty eyelashes crusted balling in corners- grain shrapnel The sound of cow bells approaches she watches the road slowly become black and white On exhale she stumbles forward as they trample past through sinks to her knees her dirt filled fingernails ease over her face covering as she burrowed her forehead into the ground Staying as the earth trembled mourning shades she's never known.
Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole 