False Sunset
everything is slightly mismatched, a block print out of alignment
The mountains refuse to be fully mine. I wait for them to fit into my vision, to look and recognize the peaks and grooves, for the shadows and the silhouettes to be something that can remind me of what I am doing, what I have done. Mountains as a mirror.
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In my head is a quote, sparring with the world for my attention as I drive on the freeway back into…


