|
By chris Date: 2007 Mar 27 Comment on this Work [[2007.03.27.01.14.24405]] |
|
Only hours from our home yet the air feels different - drier and more textured, blowing across a land where pools of disappearing water collect on highways like apparitions from fever dreams and rivers run underground. Night now and the breeze comes up from Mexico, warm and intoxicated on mescal and too much beauty. We see it in the mountains by day - as though ripped raw once from a still-cooling earth, the process nowhere close to being over. I see it in your eyes, reflected back at me. We're getting closer. |