Pocatello, Idaho
The light is different in Idaho.
It is like if Iceland had a child, & that child strayed from its nordic ways due to curious angst & impulse; eventually, rediscovering its roots while making love on top obsidian mountains, falling nothing short of brave alongside rattle snake thickets.
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The sun encompassed her body in the car, almost as perfect as the
60 watt illuminated her skin in the Thunderbird motel room.
I often wonder,
why the lingering smell of Marlboro reds & dusted PTAC wall heaters
make me feel so at home?
$39
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