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Lightly sowing her head,Lightly sowing her head
Lightly sowing her head, amongst heated sand, oasis. Ragged hair. Latching on Mojave, cholla hinting all at once. Her smile untainted; it resembled the oath that she uttered… the anchor to her breath. Her luster nestled, like cactus wrens, prickling. Perhaps mesa reaching its own sincerity.
Gently placing her head down, in the warm sand, a fertile spot. Unkempt hair. Holding onto the Mojave, the cholla cactus revealing everything at once. Her smile pure; it was like the promise that she spoke… the foundation of her breath. Her brightness settled, like cactus wrens, sharp. Maybe the mesa is finding its own truth.