Swagazine #2

a short story. by Amarantheus

drops of sweat
conspire to form
a river
down her face
she brushes
wispy hair aside
and looks up
through the dust
to the wavering sky
cloudless
as the sticky sweet
trickle of blood
collects
slowly
like the buzz
of a fat
and languid fly
descending
onto the drying crimson
of the bloodstained sand

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