Sandless Crabs

Denim eyebrows. Satin cheeks. She's rigid, yet smooth.

Subliminal quotations roiling about her brain. Experience is the evidence. Time is the jury. And I am the crime.

It's only just begun, but it already feels like it's over.

The avenue. Driven not to; by. Skin pudding. Drowning in it.

Molecular treason. The base to its acid is drawn. Changed. And both are exposed. Former and aft.

My renaissance. Earnest pedals. Arboreal winds. Further and further still until I am near again. Faces like flash bulbs going off. Freezing the moments and blinding me.

For a few laps I was able to outrun myself. And then it was over.

Drought.