Self-imposed exile is cold and colorless. Pain is pain is pain. I know. So I went away, I ripped open and picked out the seams that hold me together. I peeled off one of my most comforting membranes, and warmth left with it. I sat in the cold for you, so you can feel better. So you can see something else. But now my lips are pale lilac lavender blue (diluted 43%) and I want to go home. This belongs to me again.
Meandering wadis combine to form dense, branching networks across the stark, arid landscape of southeastern Jordan. The Arabic word “wadi” means a gully or streambed that typically remains dry except after drenching, seasonal rains. Image courtesy of USGS National Center for EROS and NASA Landsat Project Science Office.