I wasn't a man lost in the desert,
I was a man who did not believe in water.
I walked barefoot on the sand,
A merchant's caravan with nothing to sell.

I wasn't trapped in a dark place,
I simply never sought to open my eyes.
I betrayed the darkness with my skin,
A sickly ghost in a sea of shadow.

I stumbled along seeing but not looking,
As my uneven gait slowed to a drag.
I pulled lines through the sand
With two uncooperative pens.

I wasn't there
As I fell to my hands, and then
To my face, as the grains washed
Over my cheeks and filled my nose with brine

I wasn't in need of water,
I was in need of a boat.
Awash in monstrous waves
That tore away the world.

The very thing I needed
Was now threatening to be my end.
I closed my eyes and held my breath
And decided it wasn't real.


I wasn't a man lost in the desert,
I was a man who did not believe in water.