it's hot. i can't see.
i'm blind from the sun and the sand.
every inch of my skin is cracked and sunk in
like the wicked old map in my hand.
i'm dying for a drop to drink.
can you show me the way to the river?
i'm crying, but i have no tears
so i just curl back my lips and i shiver.
will i drink today?
when will the rain come?
maybe i'll just fill my mouth up with sand
and i'll choke and pretend
it's the water.
it's hot. i am tired.
i sink to my knees in the sand.
i slip into the dark black womb of sleep
as my eye begins to expand.
i dream i am drowning in the depths of the sea.
i drink as i die, as i gurgle and cry,
it could be worse.
at least i'm not dying of thirst.
the salt stings my throat
my kingdom for a boat
i wake with a scar and i taste what is real
cause my thirst is a meal for the water.
there's a touch on my shoulder.
i turn, and no one is there.
but before my sad gaze, an oasis for days.
a new answer to my old prayer.
and i can't help but think
that i'm sure to sink.
so i don't have a throat.
and i cannot drink.
so i turn and i walk and cough and i choke
because my heart was broken in water.
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