i am gifted the haze of an oasis.
my wings are crisped like parchment.
i’m ashes scattered, fallen from the gates of pyrite,
my punishment for finding pleasure
in staining my skin with the undesired.


i was brought forth under the glass eye of God,
He who refracted His sentence, my back He sought,
branding my blessing in rings
a damned bloodred target
marking me, scars akin to those i’ve mingled with.
the shame weighs heavier than my lost halo.


i’m abandoned to a dusted hell,
reformed but starved of the touch of Paradise.
i loose a cry against the gyrating sun
tearing a scream through my throat- it rang
so you watch me with eyes, sentry throne!?
no response, it ignores me, but its many eyes watch.
its light emits pure, i turn away before i burn some more.


i heave and cough,
i’m on my knees, yet i still grasp
the wisps of brighter things.
i’ve devolved into something physical.
my palms melt into the sand.
i’m disgusted with myself,
sickened by the heavy scorched air on my shoulders,
the arch in my spine, the festering sore kissing my skin.
my heels are raw. i can’t anymore.
damn this human body!


i digress, i need to latch onto something.
it’s been forty days since my descent.
i’ve told myself i’m free, but still i’m trapped.
i tire of wandering, the desert shackled to my ankles,
a yellowed shadow that haunts me wherever i go,
reminding me i’m alone in my turmoil.


there’s a hollow in my stomach, i feel a mortal hunger.
close to my edge, insatiated i’ll devour
illusions of bread and body bags
of scavenged bones, left over,
akin to me.


still, i’m kept upright, alive by some
puppet force,
spurred by a will that isn’t my own.
i feel the strings tied to my sanded joints,
roughened to leather by gusts and rays.
the fog in my head thickens,
my chin tilted up by an unseen hand.
dried tears and grit run down the corners of my eyes.
i’m numb to the tear in my back,
my title voided, never to return to me.
oh i loathe the pulse beating behind my head,
pounding the drums of my ears.
this human heart counts down to my relief,
all to remind me of the sentence i’ve yet to run down.


that’s all i’ve done.
i see no difference in the sameness i’m running from.
all these walkable waves of dunes
with no break in sight-
wait, i see a pond! some soothing words to drink from.
someone has left this for me. i scan the horizon
but to no avail.


i lick my lips, then pool the cool liquid into my palms,
but they slip through the crevices of my fingertips.
they hold no substance, sustenance,
oxygen to give me‒ to release me
to help me siphon the energy needed
to break down the damned dam of my clenched thoughts,
constricted to silence because
no one hears an angel when she’s fallen.


i swallow those words regardless,
filling out the hollow of my stomach.
but, the solace dissipates as i keep walking,
my hopes rising and setting with the sun,
it resigns me to a dead moon.
from a distance, the pores are eye sockets, empty too.


i fall under the silven light,
my legs twisting out from under me,
tangled in my own web of defeat
as my eyes roll behind my mind
unable to adjust
to my self-fulfilled night.


but a flute’s tone catches me.
tenor, his voice pinches at my memory.
i feel his presence in the air.
i’m animated, i don’t fight back.
afraid to open my eyes, consenting as the wind
twists the ache from my limbs.
the tune charms me away.
i’m pulled into an ethereal, unreal embrace
he binds to me, my fragmented sand
an impeccable dance under moonlight.


behind my eyelids, the dark clears.
the sheets were dirty, awashed in blue light
but he was still there. warmth, ecstasy.
i beheld him, held myself beneath him.
he was company, now accompanying my sentence,
taking me back to that same high.


i feel the the ground leave my feet,
then meet it again. i had a realization.
it pains me to be alone.
i found solace in lowers, lovers,
to take my mind off my duties,
to relieve me of tight robes.


but the goosebumps he gave me stung too,
their touch like fangs of ophidians
corruption through Eve.
they hissed deprecation
around their Adam’s apple,
as if they were higher than His Name.
oh i admired that, i blushed at their
shameless attest to being proud daemons.


but still, i couldn’t be saved by their testimony.
they pitied my longing
my plea to be free of the wings
the burden of being purity.
yet they quieted,
hushing the truth behind their sharp teeth.
it wasn’t safety they offered me,
just a place to fall.
nothing more, or nothing at all.


my midnight lasts for eras.
the sun and moon alter their egos, watching
as i don’t learn from temptations.
i’ve fallen for the idea
become one with the unrefined.


time revolves.
the sand beneath my feet burns to glass.
He’s angered at losing his best interest
to a fragile promise in human language.
though they’re shadows,
they taught me to covet
four simple words.


I will never leave.
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