She drove in the morning in
veil-like fogs, hair whipped in
a stream of windows, cracked. Like
slick, black snakes, her leather
skin faced days, days, and yet
more days, with a cigarette lit so
her red embers glow in the dimness.
A puff from her nostrils, another
from her lips, her trembling hands
subside on the wheel, save for two
fingers with...
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