The Desert

Hola mi Gente,

The following is an excerpt from a short story I never finished... started a while back. It follows the journeys of two lovers. It’s a repost.

The Desert

 

Photography: Thomas Sennett, Untitled, 1985

I find myself struggling: it’s a phase -- as if we’re driving through the desert of our early journey, and it is in the sands of my restless heart to which you make love. It’s the colors and tones within these barren passages that you court me, the reflection of the daylight between shadows, the dried parched terrain of this forbidden land -- dried mud and clay, your body now like a shimmering mirage of a long lost secret garden.

I’m struggling between frustration and despair, and I want to fight, or run, or at the very least to resist. Slowly, painfully, I let the colors bleed. Mile after desert mile, seemingly endless, with no horizon, I inch closer to the essence of you -- the very mud and clay of the Earth. You took me down into the clay, through your own uncovered soul, and I saw you for the very first time in the desert of our early journey and fell in love with you -- again and again

* * *

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization…