Image: taken by me of the city Santiago, in Chile.
After my time in Chile, I wrote a small poem that reflected on some of the intense and important thoughts and feelings I had during the trip.
“The queasiness in my stomach, the numbness in my toes, it barely registers in my awe-addled mind. I’ve been in high places before, felt the blood pool and pulse in my face, while the tiny movie screen in my head played a slow-mo clip of the ground crumbling under my feet and my body following after, but for once the screen is black, and I lean so far over the edge my toes hang off of the cliff, as I try and peel the delicate skin around my eyes further back, so that I can see every building, every wave, every mural, every dog, every mountain, every color. I could slip right over this edge and never feel a spike of fear.”
