Along an isolated road, a cactus dressed
in a cowboy outfit: hat, vest, low-slung holster. The eyes
and mouth, gouged-out holes, have turned black. Shape
of the living in the dying. It is said the ancient Egyptians
believed the essence of a being was in the heart, the body
a vehicle to the other side. The brain pulled through the nostrils
with a hook, discarded. The heart flows beyond form, petrifies
in the drying. The burning of a shooting star, one light
into another. Eden in darkness. Desert in full bloom.