Irrigating the Desert

The serpent in the glass dances with my breath. The song never changes. The end is always there percolating in the belly of the beginning. Just waiting to be born again.

Wearing our blood as underwear.

I don't have tomorrow. Nor yesterday. This is it. All that I am. Will ever be. One sting and then it's over. Leave my arrow and my abdomen caught in your skin while I fly away too scared to realize I've left half of myself there.

Shivering like a leaf whose tree is about to let go. Wanting so much to change, but so lost in the color I've always been.

I want to say it's late, but truthfully it isn't. A little shy of tomorrow. Slightly darker than I thought it would be tonight. I'd always anticipated the sunset. It's how long it takes to rise again that worries me.

We're not debating how alone I am. That's the one thing we can both agree on. The stars all seem to frown as I look up at them. I pretend to pick fruit off of empty vines because I don't know what else to do.

Nothing grows because nothing is planted. I pretend to count the seeds. Because I don't want them to know.

You won't ever hurt me again. That is what I'll miss most.