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| 20 Strength at Aguirre Springs, New Mexico The image of your face is hard to trace because the sun hits the clouds the instant you turn to the glow in the trees and realize the light is behind you as you hold onto the wind’s majesty— not impossible to miss if you climbed this far. The urge for revenge is hidden in the oak’s heart, though the camera does not capture the moment that swallows each foot of grass, your mind at sunset shaping toward the window that never closes, a quiet image invisible to the touch, your presence resolved in the shaking of the leaves, camera on your face that is too dark to move, 21 | dust floating from the tree to cover you with a layer outlining the seconds as you open your eyes to study the oak because the click of the camera pulls you into the bark where its wrinkles hold you, something approaching on the horizon, the first lightning bolt igniting the mind into silence, the stone steps leading to broken ground where rain moves on your skin. ...

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