Across the Wasteland

I’m alone in the desert—sand in my mouth. The skies have scorched me. The wind has blown me from mirage to mirage. But I’ll reach for your hand till I find a way out. You don’t have to be perfect, just right for me. I walk across a dune, another and another. I’m a shadow in a dream, what’s left of me. When I come to your oasis and the moon finally rises, I’ll drink from your well, begin to believe it was all worth the pain.

temperature rising . . .
what I would give
to ride a cloud


Comments

No comments yet. Why don’t you start the discussion?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *