fragments and remnants on a poetry thursday...

and who are you
are you
unapproachable?
unassailable
spouting
disjointed
explanations
where
none
are needed
while the
motorcycles
rumble
in the background
and
sweat
beads
on the back of your neck
and
paper confetti falls
from
the sky...

i have been
silent
now for seven
hours
drinking hot
chocolate
in the sun
with the
smell of
wild roses
behind me
and dying of
thirst.