Haze

This one part of Southwest Texas has kind of burrowed into me. Out near Big Bend where there was no one around with those mountains in the distance. I want to walk there, climb them, sit on top in the hot, dry breeze. I want to drift like I used to in a kind of fever dream back and forth across the border between languages and worlds and find the current of magic that runs through. I want to meet that girl at the disco on Sunday afternoon, no more than a handful of people in there, sometimes only the two of us, the DJ, and the bartender. Unable to speak each other's language, we drank a little then danced and sweat together all afternoon and late into the night. At the end of the evening, she hugged me passionately, smiled happily, and went on her way. I would find her there again the next Sunday. And if I couldn't be there, I'd yearn to be.

I'm not doing that now. I miss the acuity.