all this i would exchange

despite the sordid adventures under mosquito nets and bamboo ceilings, despite the sensuality of steam that pushes into every crack in my clothes, despite the glistening terraraced gardens, the torquises waters lapping, the endless olfactory overload, the gastronomic overstimulation

i am aching for the dryness, for invalid mountains, for red and more red, for houdini rivers and big sky country.

it is time to come home.