Shaven head and acid. A grim reminder of a pale afternoon. There is nothing here. Nothing to sustain us. We tried. We ate the grass, the dirt, the sky. We raked the flesh from each others arms and sucked at the wounds. We stared at each other, bitter and aggressive. Like dogs. Like children. We huddled when finally it rained. And then grumbled in the mud. I’m not giving in, you said. I’m not going, said I. So we sat and sat until the ground grew dry again. And our heels cracked and bled. Until you turned your back on me again. And I howled and beat the dust.
—Image from here.