and as your reappearance slowly made its way home,
i couldn't help but to notice as you turned to count your remaining recruit
a breath of stale air came from under your matted hair.
My set of glossies weren't the only ones blinking.
Your unfamiliar pupils arose, only to take scattered glances at me.
Your lips, dry and ashy, veiled to the sun
repeated on a silent, endless loophole of what seemed to be screaming, "Everyone has a spare."