my hands

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Imagine yourself in the desert.

Submitted: January 08, 2007

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Submitted: January 08, 2007

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hot, dusty desert sands

scortch and burn my deperate hands that search for water.

Thirst. Overcome by thirst...

Blood, water, anyhting, Finally... cactus spines.

I can drink.

Or so it seems, but i cold drink the desert dry . if only i could muster more than a drop.

Long I searched the desert on my hands and knees.

I gazed at the sky begging the buzzards.

Please, go cast your bizzare sadows elsewhere.

My eyes decieved.

I saw lakes. A magical mirage cast by the tricking desert. or maybe, my delierious mind.

And I dived.

Just to find...

hot sand.

It trickles form my hands.

One moment in time is a grain...

eternal pain, no water.


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