Underneath

 

Photo © Jennifer Wagner

They tell you

the desert is a liar.

 

But I say,

it’s a revealer of secrets.

 

There is no blistering

the sun can’t reveal,

 

no buried corpse

the sun won’t bleach.

 

The dark and wet

obscure things,

 

but lay your hand

on the desert at night,

 

its blue darkness

will rise up in you—

 

tremoring like cicadas

somewhere far off,

 

rumbling underneath,

black

 

to match your puddled eyes

and clinging, savage hair—

 

black, to pull the darkness

stretching out into the light.

 

 

© 2025 Jennifer Wagner