There And Back Again

It is as obvious
as tracks in dust.
The land has spoken
it's piece and left
for us a story.

A knot tied
reminder around
a figment of
immaculation.

A hobo sign,
here be answers
at the way station

where we rest and respite,
cutting our losses
to the best of our
agilities.

Your feet bare
on Death Valley heat,
my ache exposed to
lethal rays and your
posing gaze.

"It will always be like this,
one blessing at the cost
of one curse."

Your words a crisp well,
salvation at the last
possible moment.

I nod, lean to shade
your dusty lips
one last time,

before heading north
to other dichotomies.

A knot reminder
left for the next
traveler.