Mar 2
2 min read
Spelunking So Far Inside, the Memory of Sunlight Long Swallowed Up
Prose poem: soothing fires
Some days it’s like willfully climbing into a kiln
At a balmy 104°, thoughts baking off quicker than moisture on an eager Arizona afternoon — cacti of irritation flourishing next to bleached bones & that ever-present vulture, self-doubt — pecking at eyes easily led to wander as…
