NOTE: I’ve stepped onto a new level of existence. It’s less bull god and more spiders from Mars. There are fewer mountains but the trees are older, wiser. And the moon has more patience with my tides.
© Edie Harper “Untitled (Black Hole)”, c. 1950, vintage gelatin silver print
Overhead, two thousand feet above the desert, the turkey vultures swirled around and around the rim of a thermal. Like a toilet flushing, their swirling spiraled down and down, the revolutions growing tighter and faster toward the black hole of last breaths.