the dirt is still in his shoe
he walks alone – not so soon.
following the tracks;
hunter hunted – or just lost.
the salty waters guide his feet
soaked shirtsleeves – drowning in your ocean.
shimmering in the distance
like a mirage – slightly colder.
how I wish it was,
that I wouldn’t have to – shouldn’t have to;
know you left trails
knowing I would follow – swallow.
raising my rifle,
to fire at my feet – leave me be.
or come back
just when I lose the trail – please?
backtracking, over shoulders
always leaving – never waiting,
except for me.

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