Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Some of us, we don't say.

THE DAY: Pre-thanks giving.
THE TIME:12:38pm
THE MUSIC:Sister; Sufjan Stevens
THE MOMENT:a question.


I am not sorry for the things I said in the moments before I left.
I am not resistant to this feeling that-- I am in the antonym of home.
The desert highways.
The blackened bottoms of my feet.
The palm tree over head, the dry earth beneath me.
The pale air, the attempts for irrigation.
All of these things are also within me.

So many climates I’ve yet to absorb.
Here I am,
in a flat desert town,
longing for a landslide.

Am I lonely?

Drivin' under the stars and into an arid sunrise.
Becoming the western songs I never before understood.
Eatin real Mexican food at marias.
Skateboarding with skinny rocker boys in empty parking lots.
Hoping for sunshine, layin under the overcast sky as goosebumps sneak up and down my skin.

Hello Blythe, I am Lyndsi Shae.
Where is my world?

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