Ridden

He is not
alone
someone else
has been here
already

Dust silence grey
wheels make
snake belly canyons

dunes within
watchful cicadas
  even though
even though she was dark
and small,
 a woman can burn right
through a man

now he will count
to himself her
faults
too many teeth for her mouth
her lazy eye
a need for noise
all the time,
noise

  then the
jagged sprockets
     dig in
her cool hand on his shoulder
the smell of her skin
how she fit
 back or belly
lying there
  a violin
         a case

only his habit
 for traction
   keeps him hanging on