This one is based on travel stories I've been trying to put into some sort of poem or story for years but can never quite seem to take it away from the diary element. This one is called:
Forever Red
So we wondered through red dust me alone
you ahead, I staggered slow enough to
live my own view but just fast enough to
keep up, because no one wanted to
get lost out there.
We climbed over red rock whilst
we were told that no one was
allowed to climb these, that
it was against their religion, that
they mourned differently.
We staggered through clouds of red sand
and I kept some in a bottle, plastic against
grain, in the hope to one day show you
what it was like but through the journey
it turned brown.
And we drove through valleys of red,
camping under stars, me barely speaking
except to one Spanish girl, my hair cut
and weight lost, in a world so alien yet
so loving, thinking of never returning.
Only to live in the red forever.
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