Cover it

has a cuss word.

For 30 days and 30 nights we rolled across the desert

Where we slept in trucks under turrets while the moon painted my face

With the pressure of a woman’s body against my skin

And rounds hung like a mobile meant to decorate the ceiling of constellations above my head

Sometimes I looked around me to see that this desert held nothing but sand

A crushed place perfect for a crushed soul and sand to bury my emotions

Like the cigarette butts I flick from my fingers and hide with a kick

On the day when the world dropped

We shouted “F**K” at the desert and cried for help with the knowledge that none would come

Frantically tried to repair our life with 550 cord and ratchet straps to

just make it f*****g work

We slammed our gear off the truck seeing the destination but unable to touch

Grinding our palms into our eye sockets like we can see a different life

Looking up through bruised skin to know that even the sun leaves

On that night the moon didn’t come either

And when clouds covered the stars we were completely alone

In our way; we couldn’t sleep until we forced a something to work

When we returned they asked us what had happened with false concern

To which we replied, “We fixed it.”

With no further words said I met him at midnight

where we sat and smoked next to one another in silence

We throw our butts down

 We mash them into the sand