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Ominous Scent
An ominous breath
collects
on the back of my neck,
corrodes the fuzz.
I drive,
one eye on the rearview.
Paranoid.
Waiting for something to unfold,
an evil written;
a chaos foretold.
A song
seeps up from the dirt.
Cacophonic vapor.
A haze of hurt
is birthed.
A scent
more pungent than death.
A calamity
greater than god.
