desert city summer creeping in and there’s the smell of rain and hot concrete mixed with sage and lilac. it’s the strawberries in the grocery store in that pornographic red that make me think of her lipstick and her heart shaped sunglasses and her nail polish. 

you can feel that heat off the skin of sunburnt punks in the park in their leather vests with patches that say “fuck the government” and ive got a coconut ice cream cone and i nod because yeah, fuck the government. 

you can feel the wild under the full moon picking sage on the land while dirty old trucks barrel by on the highway through the reservation. 

it’s the coyotes laughing in the schoolyard and the smell of cotton candy and mini donuts. it’s the creepy lady and her yard sale on main street and girls with armpit hair and septum piercings at the coffee shop. 

there’s those cute dudes fresh from the gym in tiny tank tops and tinier shorts and days at the lake and white people looking nervous at their first pow wow ordering indian tacos for the first time. 

you can see it in the hippies on their way to the kootenays for shambhala to drop acid and try to find godhead in the middle of a field. ive been there amongst the fireworks and the cattle guards and the wild rides with too many people packed into a van with “love” spray painted on the side trying to drink and fuck our way to nirvana. 

the heat gets to me, you know. 

and i love it i love it i love it. 

pair of antique photos mounted in beveled glass from stockholm, sweden

found in thrift shop

kamloops bc

may 2026

he is all shrugged shoulders when we talk about the future and he’s shrugging off sacrifices in a way i cannot fully understand because what do you mean when you say you’d lay it all down at my feet like some ancient goddess of war and you’re laying all the weapons soaked in your own blood at my feet. 

because what do you mean when you’re on your knees and i stand perfect in imperfection on cracking pedestals bewildered. and it’s just like ok but what do you mean that you could watch me dance for hours?

what is this feeling that lives inside my throat right beside fish bones and butterflies?  

forever scared that behind the crystals and cowboy hats and faded tattoos and thrift store silver that you’ll see what you’re buying and have to make a frantic late night return. 

miley cyrus said she came in like a wrecking ball but that isn’t quite right because you came in like guerilla warfare but you took no prisoners and the shield wall around your heart opened and how many times now could we have gone in for the kill but we don’t. 

you’ve got an easy laugh to go with those shrugged shoulders. 

and i laid my weapons and skulls and scalps at your feet too. 

take no prisoners, no. 

but i laid those weapons down

an armistice