Monday, May 27, 2013

Mount Taylor

I watched the last tiny sliver of red churning sun sink into the desert somewhere between Santa Fe and Albuquerque, Mount Taylor a lingering shadow on the horizon. Its shape like the dark silhouette of a woman sprawled across the distance, her curvy hip reaching up to the sky in a purple haze that made her seem dreary. maybe it was that blissful fog of ecstasy that lingers after long, slow glorious love-making in the afternoon, her body limp and draped across her soft bed, her mind at peace yet full of passionate thoughts of him. She would give him anything he wanted at that moment, so vulnerable yet safe in his arms. Was he the sky or the earth? Or maybe the clouds themselves that intertwined amongst her limbs and valleys creating oneness. Was it the sun bringing fiery forbidden pleasure? Or did she long for the moon to rise again?

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  • When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. ~Hunter S. Thompson