I quite like looking upwards. Naked earth under my feet, mouth open, eyes resting in the invisible shade of a curved piece of clear glass… upwards I gaze… Trees, the poet once told me, are earth’s desire to touch the sky. Branches, it seemed, are the tree’s desire to touch the earth. Earth’s desire to touch the sky desires to touch the earth… upwards I gaze… my desire looking back into my eyes from up there… hopes… dreams…