Photo by Ian Watson
The constant hum from thousands of desert cicadas paired with a scorching dry heat provide consistency and comfort,
My skin goes from white to red in an instant;
The soles of my shoes begin to distress upon walking on the rocky dirt that surrounds everything I know,
I begin to peel
Itch, itch, itch –
What was once white and then red becomes a raw mix of both, sprinkling and gently falling to the desert floor;
Panting and breathing and inhaling and exhaling and in and out air enters and exits my mouth and evaporates before reaching my lungs
My flesh begins to melt away as I sink down into the ground, a puddle flowing into the pores of the earth
My consciousness remains intact,
An occasional birds flies above and glances down at beetles crawling around my liquifying body
I am the rocks and the mountains,
I fly with the birds and slither with the snakes,
Traveling as the hot air and flaming rays on the sun,
I am the desert.
Kindergarten 