needes scrach me. the sap sticks to my hands and hair, fir filling my nose, sticky bitter in my mouth.
go endlessly forward,stopped under the branches, knot in my lower back and in my shoulders. my cheek and forearms sting. watching my feet trudge through shed bones and hair of the trees. craking and snapping under my feet, toasted a carmel brown on top, rotten to mold silver dust underneth after i kick it up.
getting stuck in my socks, pricking and iching. with sweat, on my temples, under my shirt, dripping. making a curved path down my face and around my stomach and spine.
through the thicket last dusting of pine needles
a beach.
or rather a ledge.
massive boulders shattered and warn to smaller stones showing red and orange, and painted green in the water below.
down down down far below a lake in a desert. a desert being a relif after a Forrest.
after brown trunks, brown needles and my own dirty brown hands, red and blue are the colors.
corporate red : towels, umbrellas, bikinis, all trying to blend with the red stone.
red sunburn bodies lain about. looks hot and shiny.pink. suntan lotion after miles of pine refreshes my nose.
but i am a stranger here, so carefully no one sees me.
and my plainness here.
the only red i have to offer is a sting across my cheek, a cut from branches dragging along my face.
the lake and the sky the same color: uncaring blue. cut only by red land. the people and the earth have no interest in blue. i can only offer the brown of my sweaty hair, grubby hands, and squinting eyes.
there is openness here. wide cloudless sky, and flat fading desert. the lake is in a basin, cut by rivers making it twisted and deep.
the jewel in the middle: a light house.
pure white so stark against the orange and the blue and the cloudless sky. white. sleek harsh minimalism, hard lines against the curves of nature.
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