running haiku

cracked asphalt stewing
batches of mulberry wine,
side-swiping drunk flies,

i run, i run, ai
yi yi yi, i run run run
on these hot mulled wine sidewalks

spicy with brow salt
and full body sweat slick and
purple spattered legs

dreaming of breezes,
icy margaritas, and
salty salty glasses


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