As I write to you,
the echinopsis flowers have begun
their petal game of peek-a-boo,
the crested caracara flies
high in the dusty sky,
and I am slowly suffocating.
breathing gets harder.
The oppressive hot air
scrapes the inside of my nostrils.
Swallowing is painful,
prickly sand dots my throat.
You brought me here
to this mysterious place
filled with natural wonders.
My choice was yours,
because living together
meant moving together,
and I didn’t argue.
the sparkling sand
and shining sun
You were happy
and I was content.
But I realized that it was all a mirage.
my broken dreams suddenly
appeared in my cupped hands.
They were the quills of a cactus
and my blood was theirs too.
I realized that we are sun and sand.
I reflected your radiance,
but then was stomped on.
Your neglect left deep bootprints.
I realized that I was foolish.
I am still foolish.
Foolish powder that wishes to be glass.
I thought I saw opportunity on the horizon,
beckoning with flaring gestures
and brilliant colors.
But that was just the sunset,
and it wasn’t as pretty as I had hoped.
My dreams are wider than the landscape.
My ideas, more sporadic than tumbleweeds.
You and I both know that I will fail,
but I’m no longer afraid of taking chances.
So when you receive this
letter of surrender,
flying white from the hand of the mailman,
I will receive my freedom,
And I do not care for a reply.