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It is mid-July, three

o’clock in the afternoon.

In the hot shade

of her adobe porch,

Violet is gazing


out over the desert.

The heat waves shimmer

from the desert floor

like phantom serpents,

blurring the edges


of creosote, ocotillo,

prickly pear and mesquite.

Even her breathing

is labored as she languishes,

baking like a biscuit


in a low-heat oven.

She reminisces the time

she met Jake in his Del Rio

hospital room.

Heavily medicated,


he hardly noticed her

moving about the room

like a phantom,

blurring the tenuous

borders between them.


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Larry D. Thomas

Jake & Violet

(Terlingua, Far West Texas)

an rhp electronic chapbook





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