Sand Box

Sahara north african voice hit th' desert whimpering a cry a muffler left goodbye to where sand storms swallow an hurt th' scent of a women to dare to try th' garment's thou used to wear e're live in a sand box untouch'd spill still looking for e're soft hands pare walk'd th' flaming sand up a hill longing to touch again e're skin search'd for days near tho far away having illusional visions of e're spin opened th' box to win a day an all e're clothes coverd' th' desert hence with winds up shifting e're scarves fence 10/13/2016