Into the Dust

by kaminskiwriting

I draw your face with sandstone
On sandstone
Sloppily.
It looks like no one
But dust.
We laugh
And you destroy my artistic abilities with your words.
I am no Monet, VanGoh, or God.

We lay our bodies down
In the desert sun
On dust.
Waiting for the sun to cool our bodies
So we can wander home
In blind darkness.
So we can drive back to our room,
On empty
Going 90.
Through the black
Construction paper night.
We cut through.
Going fast.

I stand on the horizon
As you put your arms out
Into the wind
And we holler wildly
Into the invisible power.
We cannot hear
Except the sounds of rushing water
Cutting deep
Into the earth.

We gather the red dust
In our hands
We release it.
It flies.
It never touches the ground again.
We are giant egg timers
With all the time in the world.
So we throw stones,
And they too,
In all their weight,
Never hit the bottom.

I stand miles away
Looking out in a crazed wonder.
I leap.
And you cautiously watch
To see if I too will hit the ground.

_ Kevin Kaminski 2012

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