dersert

There is a strange brutal beauty in desolate places. Where the sun seems relentless, harsh and often, left out in it too long, cruel. Your lips crave water, like the kiss of a long lost lover. The sunburnt browns leave your eyes squinting for some glimmer of life. Time seems to stand at a loss. Things left to the desert, merely collect dust. Immortalize a time once felt, memories once lived. A life spread out, a time line of existence. No mold to eat away, no growth to pull it down, just sand. A slow death of what once was.

Sleepyeyes may 2013