Driving in New Mexico

the terrain’s more expansive here you said, as if obscurities that had been, moved aside so the eye could soak in highways singing restless blues, as if language materialized straight from that feeling of nowhere coupled with too many places to be, and you can see what you want to, blanketing the spaces with clutter from your mind by accident like deja vu I keep turning mid-drive to stare at the unusual wedding of indifference and curiosity, your green eyes touching even further than the collective of what remains enchantingly unspoken