The Rockies

The Rockies rose up before me. Satan spreads his wings. Half a life away, a baby is born. They call her Memory after her father. Time tumbles backwards. Kings crawl out of graves. A lasso unwinds itself from the legs of a steer. Everything that has come to fruition comes undone. And it’s all part of the plan. The fire loves us and stares back at us. Thoughts swirl out like sparks from our campsite. The rocks glow red and green until the ground swallows them. I lay down on the embers and try to think back. She was standing there like a weathervane, pointing away and then back again. White shells lay in piles at her feet. They came to us in canoes, wearing Truth in their hair. Lizards leapt over their oars. Liquid flame splashed across their backs. She smiled, stooping down to lift me up.