I am dry.

 I am dry.

 Like the sweeping desert sands in their golden float.

 I am blown by the wind. Desperate to taste the breath of the sea.

 I am dry. My blood it boiled in the heat of my desire.

 The furnace in my soul shall not die out of coal. I am dry.

 My face it peals like the scraping fibers of hardened leaves.

 My heart cries with no water, it burns off the ashes of my pain into the still world. 

 Why am I dry?

 I taste my tongue as a hard rough rubber that tears my mouth into little strips of   red earth.

 I am dry. Oh fill me with the coolness of your ocean

 That I might glide in the tender caress of water.

 That I might taste joys before the lucid reality of despair strikes me down.

 Pour your last tear on my lip. Let it drip down my mouth and heal my broken   tongue with the sweetness of your eyes.

 I am dry. Let me be soaked in the cleansing body of your sea.

Drench my being in the swamp of you’re your being.

I am dry. I am so dry.

                                                                                            veil