Into the raw skin
of the Andean Desert, the night
is obese with stars,

countries forget their borders
and the Earth reaches up
like an anxious lover.

In this long and parched embrace,
sand, silence and self
become one–

I am but a sigh here. Here
where centuries abound
I disappear

into the vastness of wind–
swept souls, particled
like the bark of mountains

that shelter a mummified mother,
waiting for the tired footsteps
of her natural daughter.

Here, my prayers are undressed
of words, leaving only the eternal
rhythm of atoms.

Adina Cassal, as a child, lived in six countries and three languages as a child. She now lives in the Washington DC area, where she works providing human services to people she deeply respects. She has been published in The Commonline Journal, Alimentum, Spank the Carp, and 3 Elements Literary Review.