I ache for the kiss of rain
To ease the pain of my parched lips
A drought to acute inside me,
I might be the Sahara with
No oasis just mirages
No hop of cloud,
Just the ever swirling sand
Blinding me, inside and out,
She resting on a barge
In the ever so distant Nile,
A queen waiting on Antony
Which is definitely not me,
Never was, only
In my imagination,
I paint myself in his place,
Already ruined by my inability
To reach where she is,
I am no Caesar
To call her to task,
To drag her back to Rome
In chains,
To tame her when
No man can,
Some nights,
I taste her kiss again
A mirage more illusion
Than all the other
Mirages combined,
A desperate wish
Or a man already
Lost beyond hope,
Letting the blowing sand
Rattle my brain,
Filling the void I feel,
The hole in me,
The absence no
Imaginary sand can fill
I still thirst,
Still crave
Still wish for something
I will wish for
Over and over until
The sand builds my graved
And may still
Wish for it,
After that.
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