Touch the thirst
sandy throat
  nomad drifter

remembering rain
  when all the August grains
    cry out
  
inside a fiery tornado
  lit up in the center

with a bolt
  scorching,
    hotter than Sun.

Funnel of light
  leveling the expression
    you seek.

Must I start over
  carrying silent debree
    after you stormed through me

leaving this bright residue
   still twisting inside
     my hidden pathway.

Touch my thirst
  sizzle the answers
    into August grains,

flash flood this Mojave
with the echo
    of your flood.