A trip to Utah in March is miserable.

You leave late. You are tired. Someone you love...ugh...blah.

You drive. It is lovely. You drive. There is snow. There are no sandbags in the back of the pickup.

Your eyelids sag.

You don't hate those motels by the side of the road, yet for some reason you try to burn one down.

Utah is wet and cold.

The skin around your knuckles shivers.

Dark kisses the inside of your ear.

This must serve some purpose.