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I Am Santo

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Sunset against firery clouds with the silhouette of trees
iPhone 5 shot
Fires rip through the final act of our drama, charcoal teeth gnashing and flaming tongues tasting each quiet hope nestled in these soft bellies. No regard for hopes or wishes, hours crisp and melt away as opportunities stolen, disappearing into a glorious display that arrests spinning thoughts. Eyes turn to the brilliance of this demise, a supernova trapped in a marbled sky, so small no tremble results, yet so large that – for a moment – the beauty of loss silences.

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