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pamukkale
The exposed bone of the earth blinds
Offering shards of secret stones
The intimate innerworkings of our own bodies
Too revealed
Too much at stake, stepping stoic-like on grissle
Until bone becomes mush, the layers of history are plundered
Squished between my toes.
A woman sits on the roadside selling terracotta birds.
She demands two lira.
I haggle.
She refuses and blows bubbles of breath through the birds �
Chirp chirp chirp.
10:20 a.m. - 2010-02-10
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