Thirst

“What water? It’s all desert now

And has been forever.

Maybe oceans are but fairy-tale.”

She takes a sip of cacti,

Arguing no more,

And hides a drop of ocean

In her eye.

A vision of a Merman

Had made her thirsty.

She’s always been…

Anomaly they say —

Her body is just weird.

But maybe it remembers…

He isn’t real

So she can’t have him —

But she longs for him.

It’s killing her

Yet makes her come alive.

Alone, abandoned

She finds solace

In drawing precious features

In the sand.

“Please come to me,”

She whispers to him.

“Embrace me. Take me. Love me.”

Her cheeks are burning…

She’s on fire.

Covered with her tresses,

She hides her passion

From the desert-dwellers,

Whose insides are

But only lukewarm,

Protected by thick skin of insulation.

She wonders if HE sees her,

From where he dwells —

Another hologram of Multiverse.

Oh dear… what if he does.

“I refuse to be ashamed,”

She says to him.

“I’m thankful for this feeling,

So real and pure…

It’s up to fate and you.

If I’m to drown — I’ll drown;

What they call madness

Is my crown.”

He’s gazing back at her,

All-placid and so gorgeous:

Long hair, transparent eyes,

And striking eyebrows…

Her fingertip is tracing

The bow shape of his mouth.

A teardrop falls on portrait

Of her fantasy. Her essence.

Consumed…

Her vision’s blurred:

Can’t have him… this is doomed.

Mirage ahead —

Clean sparkly water. Her element.

She cannot live

Without something

Long declared dead.

02.19.20.

N.B.