I'm the fruit from the tree of the northern desert.
Where the grounds are dehydrated with  cracks  that run deep in their skins.
Bleeding the veins of plants to the last drop.
Draining the essence of all living things and yet still a victim of The unquechable thirst.
The heat forever calescent. The tree pleading to the sky for a drop of hope, for angels to cry and bless us with tears of joy.