Wednesday, July 08, 2020


Desert wind.
The smell of
camel, its

slick spit, grime
of the salt
it carries

walking towards
death. You hear,
in the distance,

djinn promising
water, the sweet
taste of dates,

of green shade
and women.
You can almost

see them, before
you turn back
to another

thousand miles,
before love.

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