They had dreamed. They had gone so far with their dreams. Yet, so deprived they
Like them, I have become a denizen of the desert, ever since I laid my eyes on
Like them, lovers of a hundred decades ago, I was destined to wake up everyday
in a new shelter, a new tent.
What would my shelter be anyway, that ceases lamentation.
So far from here I have gone. An inhabitant of the moon perhaps have I become,
ever since your love was seared in me; ever since I started missing you like
the desert misses the rain, I have been unutterably agonized.
Now, it has been a month, an eternity shall I say.
Now, to believe that you’ll be back, it would take me as many trials as there are
miles between the moon and us. “Us”. What a soothing word. As soothing as it
is for you to realize that a series of flaws have been nothing but a lame
nightmare, and as queenly as stereotype works.
Like the sand under the misty skies that I have seen from my window, scattered
grains either cemented or carried away, is my salvation.
Waiting to be held closely, with cuddles and a sweet lullaby, the immutable child
amid my exhaustions cries in grief…
…and when it rained, I had to believe…at least to recall the hope that I had lost.
Yes, today it rained, amidst the scalding and the warmth, it came; I believe it did,
yet I still don’t know whether it was sent to heal the pain, or cut the line and cease
Jessica J. Hanna