Airbnb

Cicadas and the barefoot
Shuffling of leaves
Motorcycles
The smell of coffee slightly burnt
From a corner deli
A loud laugh layered beneath a
Burst of anger all decked out in
Bitter sarcasm
The sounds that follow me along
Foreign highways where the
Crows sing and dogs
Howl at the sun because it
Just won’t stop
I remember that
I don’t speak this language

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

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