The desert calls to me by the swirling dust in the night.
Only at night in a dream do I step and leave my print.
I tantalize cactus; wear the bare bones mask and sing toward the stars.
I trace ripples with fingertips.
I love the arid.
I love the heredity.
I love that land.
Painted rocks are my backdrop; the desert my stage; and I am the star.
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