The sun was starting to rise in the East and I leaned against the red convertible and took another drag from a joint I had rolled when the stars still dominated the sky in a vast velvety void. We had been out here all night while you tried to capture the milky way as it traversed the space above us in rural New Mexico. I searched for aliens and a reason to be here with you and all I could come up with is that I was a fool. But fool or no, I was here and you had asked me and that was all that mattered. We had tore off through the night in this beat up relic of a car and we tried to pick up some music on the old radio bathing us in orange glow and it was static and preachers and occasional music from over the border in Juarez. Our boots were dusty, our hair was dusty. I wanted to find a diner and some breakfast but I didn’t even ask because once you are in the zone behind your camera there is no one else. I thought about that and wondered at how I was fine playing second fiddle to a piece of photographic equipment but no one else. But I was the other fiddle here so I couldn’t say shit. All I could do was walk around and kick some rocks. The wind blew my hair askance and as the first rays rose over the horizon, I squinted. I kept staring at that sun just coming up without a care and I felt your hand grab my side and pull me to you whipping me around to your face and your lips and you bemoaned that the stars were gone but I was just as good and of course I forgave you everything that I made up in my mind in the night. And I got myself situated in the front seat and I thought about good strong coffee, black, and maybe some bacon and I knew it was going to be even better when the herbs hit my system. I propped a boot up on the dash and looked over at you and put on my sunglasses since we were about to drive right into the goddamn sun and smiled at you. And you cranked the engine and you took my hand and told me I was your ride or die and I told you that you had no idea.