Can't Find You

The wind leans into twilight kissed sand,

swirling the fine grains of crushed pearl

into open desert air—

unsettled,

twisting into vertical tunnels,

losing itself.

A line straight through the eye of the storm

seen through half moon windows fringed in ink

as dusk descends into

half masked faces, thieves in the night,

familiar fingertips tracing

physical forms,

whispering names in surrender.

Nomadic

talons of falcons

gripping

R e l e a s i n g

golden sand at dawn.