The dream is cloaked in the deepest blue, the sky is a living thing a wave the wing of a bird an undulation of living matter yet to be categorized that lurches and swirls around me, runs a rough finger along my jaw line, pushes me forward, drags me sideways, spits sand in my eye. The city is burning or the image of a city is rippling on the horizon, or the city is a hallucination caused by the sky. Towers plunge and reappear and the long low buildings unfurl like torpid flags. I’m at the edge of something and the air is so dry here. | image @dawitlpetros