flesh rubbed raw
under a heavy coat of rime,
painted on by the night
with wind, her paint brush.

the blush
of vermilion hue
undone the next day by the sun.
he releases the red,
and the earth takes
what was always hers.

it's not a matter of give and take
when we share the same hands;
and when they shake
there are no demands,
only miles
and miles of sand.

no flowers here,
only the sun,
and then only the moon,
and only the sand stretching
in heavy sheets across rock.
the sleeping beast beneath
is unlocked.

let it eat me alive.
I am survived,
and it's killing me.