I wrote you a letter to send across the ocean but it was too late.
The ocean kept us separated, and our minds kept us destructed. We were two ravens flying in different realities. We ate the air… West, East. sucked the poison from the seedless worms of the earth. And scattered our bones across the pale sky, apricot yellow sunlight that blinded us to see gold elsewhere. Gold all over our skin. Now there’s almost America, our dream. My land. Our solitude. My freedom. Budweiser, Elvis, and black shiny Cadillacs. I have a black soul and no heart left. Yet, I’m home and I am happier than the dead that can’t dance.
words and images by Vanessa Matic
