A Lizard in Spanish Valley

A lizard does not make a sound, it has no song, it does not share my love affairs with flannel sheets, bearded men, interlocking silver rings, the moon, the sea, or ink. But sitting here the afternoon, I’ve come to believe we do share a love affair and a belief — in wink, blink, stone, and heat. Also, air. This is not a fable, nor is it bliss. Impatience, remember this.