Monday, February 24, 2014

ask the desert about miracles

golden hills,
gleaming with the tears
of a thousand forgotten souls.

all bodies are swallowed by the sea,
all love is consumed by the fire,
and all wanderers end up in the desert sands.

i watch the horizon,
disbelieving when the sun and the moon
appear next to each other,
to wish me good night,
promising to be here when i wake up.