Blood

There is a map of Sedona etched into my heart

and once in a while,

I am in sunlight, a lizard scurrying under my legs,

silent in a grove of oaks under the milky way,

asleep on a red rock while ravens speak,

smelling juniper crushed under my shoe,

climbing the worn ascent to heaven.

A flash of my lockdown friend, her thin brown face and bikini top,

dancing, making time, making due, making magic.

Rain and lightning and red rivulets

jolt me

home.

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