Inner Woman Volume 2

Sand dune mountains

rippling gold

drier than the best red wine

Grains blow over my skin

like a gritty lotion as the

wind obscures the

periwinkle sky

My camel climbs another wave

blanket wrinkled between

depleted humps

The burr of air grinding

skin from bone

eases

An oasis beckons

a wavering mirage

shades of green

on desert yellow

And the bubble bursts

My eyes crust closed

Shelter teases,

never found.