Forever Yours
March 27th, 2012 | Poetry | journalpulp | 2 CommentsHe trudged into the desert, taking almost nothing with him but water and a ghost- ly old photo of a lady beside the ocean. That first night, he lay above a dry creek bed. Below, he heard vipers moving through the sand with a side-winding motion, and he did not sleep. He’d grown obsessed with [...]
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