@elisabethsweet
here in the heart of the desert
a mind must make
its own meaning
of the heat
bougainvillea spills fuchsia
between palms, green
fronds slicked white
by the sun, mirror
the boundless
cloudless,
clear blue
sky
cacti catch light
with thorns
so still,
sharp,
stuck,
dry
as the temperature
rises, the birds
continue to
sing
yellow butterflies flutter
through and
make me
think of
you.
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