in a desert pegged to a

loadstar, whose sands try

to scrape free.

with a sound the wind

scarce believes could

empty it out.

only loincloth and limbs

move toward her...with

lips the sun has lingered on.

for all his moving, he takes

her face in his hands...

setting down his mouth's

word on her closed eyes.

eyelids raw with

interlacing quivers.

visions of water.