Thoughts from Badwater Basin
That arid place
Published in
Jun 11, 2022
I was born for that arid place
that, at the drop of a petal, we all return to.
I know where to lengthen my stride to step
over my shed-skin husks
and when to shade myself
against the sun beating out a path
of tipsy light
and refracted love
casting a mirage of all those places
I took a torch to.
But I never claimed to be a source
of water,
or a trail marker. Such are the dangers
of a valley plagued by ghost-blazers
where life exists only when
it refuses not to.
Still. I was born for that arid place
and what was dormant
is now, somehow, a superbloom.
