Unrequited

You want to know how it feels?

I'll tell you.

Imagine the Sahara

Endless flats of sand, barely

Kissed by a breeze,

Scorched trees

In twisted circles.

You must walk.

Night comes, a cold rush,

Bringing fire, bright.

You burn

On the rocks

Of your empty arms.

In the morning blaze of colour

Light catches

On a glint of water,

Cool opal blue,

Silver

Amongst copper,

Soft as Indian silk.

You must walk.