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Desert
Oh goodness is this desert
A place for me
On its hills and ridges
All of it can see me
And I can see all of it
I can see, here,
That life can never be ascertained
The desert’s children love its cool,
Nightly bosom, yet melt in its harsh,
Unforgiving sun
Those rabbits and jackals
That slink to hide from predators
And search for prey
In the desert’s ghastly vegetation,
They love the desert
And the desert loves them
As the desert sees them
And they can see all of it
I see the faces of your red rocks
And wish to be painted in blood
Of the same ever-dying hue,
For I’ll melt here onto your hills
And into your ridges
I’m angry here in the beginning,
Hot, dry air boils my blood
So the veins on my neck shoot out
In wild ferocity,
The type that whispers lines of suffocation
From screams of exhalation
There from am I exalted
And thereby can the desert moon cool me,
From lines on the desert shore
Does the desert moon speak to me
It seems I’ve searched in your
Sandy terraria for love,
The type that would whisper
Deep into my ears
Yet here I found none,
For I lifted my head and opened my eyes
And finally with you by my side
My eyes grew heavy
And I fell asleep in love
This poem was inspired by a trip to Utah I took recently. Being in the desert certainly provided me with a lot of time for self-reflection, which is somewhat ironic due to the quite harsh environment. Being able to view the whole of the desert landscape as I walked opened up a portal for me because I came to the realization that, not only could I see the entire landscape, but the entire landscape could see me. I had nowhere to hide parts of myself, but it was a beautiful thing really.