Mischeviously

Two roads and not a yellow wood in sight

"and miles to go before I die.."

Silently

Ferrolho

Months before any rain

say a little prayer, say.

Had I known then words would grow this thin

prehaps I would not have been that silent

Jumping

California. Agadez. Impossible deserts. 
She played sax for a very long time, before leaving for good.
He knew they had made love that night and yet all he remembered was the taste of alcohol and cigarettes in his mouth. Not much of her scent, words or how her eyes looked when they looked at him remained. It felt like raining and cold inside that small space while nearby pastures running dry and the cattle thinning out and all that there was to protect the young from coyotes was barbed wire.

Other rooms

aquelas manhãs

Mojave reservation

It rains on saturdays

But it has now been a while since the last showers