your gaze leaves me frozen
and i wonder what your eyes hide,
a little pain, a little promise, a little pride–
your gaze leaves me broken,
and i wonder what your violet eyes veil–
see you later, see you never, see you ’round sometime over there
Passing graffiti in the desert, I wonder, who are the artists?
What person came to this barren, unforgiving land where one can drive for hours without passing a house, a business, another human—and decided to make their mark here in the middle of nothing?
Much later I realized, we are all artists of one kind or another but some of us are brave enough to paint the desert.