i am shaded but sill baking. salt thick in the air and thick on my lips, drying and cracking. for the heat i cant see the sun. pines shifting and groining on the breeze, making it twilight, with only thin slashes of light between the trunks.
needes scrach me. the sap sticks to my hands and hair, fir filling my nose, sticky bitter in my mouth.
go endlessly forward,stopped under the branches, knot in my lower back and in my shoulders. my cheek and forearms sting. watching my feet trudge through shed bones and hair of the trees. craking and snapping under my feet, toasted a carmel brown on top, rotten to mold silver dust underneth after i kick it up.
getting stuck in my socks, pricking and iching. with sweat, on my temples, under my shirt, dripping. making a curved path down my face and around my stomach and spine.
.
through the thicket last dusting of pine needles
a beach.
red is the color after so much brown
red sunburn bodies lain about. looks hot and shiny carefully not looking at the stranger through their sunglasses.
massive boulders shatterd and warn to smaller stones showing red and orange, and painted green in the water below
the contrast of sparkling water , open skies, and ocher stones. it makes me squint after so long of brown dryness.
but i am a stranger here, so carefully no one sees me.
and my plainness here
corporate red : towels, umbrellas, bikinis, all trying to blend with the red stone.
the only red i have to offer is a sting across my cheek, throbbing and hot, a cut from branches dragging along my face
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