Member-only story
Sonoran Slumber
A poem on Twin Flames
Arctic Wolf on the run.
Our season’s ending, while La Loba’s has just begun.
Searching for silence in the indigo dark.
The Alamos beckon, and cast runes upon my heart.
Run your fingers through my hair.
City Girl, it feels as though I’m still there.
This reality can’t truly be as it seems.
Now I wonder, was I dreaming, Ancient Dreams?
Desert Palm, Valley Cacti.
Marigolds trace the ridges of the mountain sky.
Bacanora, only one shot, well alright, maybe two.
Bailamos, just me and you.
Run your fingers through my hair.
City Girl, we know soon I won’t be there.
Shapeshifting under moonbeams — to remain unseen.
Soon, I’ll be missing you, in Winter Dreams.
No matter how hard they try,
Consistency, isn’t something runners can provide.
Twin Flames reflected in our eyes.
Lamenting this while we said good-bye.
String lights and wicker chairs.
City Girl, one last time, run your fingers through my hair.
Time’s passing and the memories recede.
Now I’m wondering if it was all, an Insomniac’s Dream?
