The Caravaner's Dream Here lies the waste here lay the drought lands my water has gone there's nothing left to rub across my chapped lips. How am I to trek across the frightening wilderness alone? Without the honey I licked from my fingers it seems like decades ago? I know I will survive the attempt skeletal, vulture scarred and drag myself over the line that parts the brown of the desert from the green of the oasis. But where is the camel I seem to have known since childhood. I won't go without the dancing girl who looked up with her eyes which scalded in their intensity who took the silver piece I rubbed across her palm and smiled. I will not go, to be blinded by the sun, to die a dog's death. Find another bastard for your caravan. Love has made me lazy. Not just love, but the memory of it. Sometimes I close my eyes and can see her lying under me eyes closed and face reddening and she speaks in a language which is neither mine nor hers but somewhere in the middle and her legs tighten around mebut up from these dreams. Adam Tod Leverton email: firstname.lastname@example.org Blog: www.adamtodleverton.blogspot.com MySpace: www.myspace.com/adamtodleverton Facebook: Adam Tod Leverton
Published on Dec 30, 2010
Twitter: @atleverton email: email@example.com Blog: www.adamtodleverton.blogspot.com MySpace: www.myspace.com/adamtodleverton Facebook: Ad...