Is this the love you imagined?
It is more desert than beach.
The camel we ride on is tireless,
And the white of our long robes
Reflect the sun’s bitter glare.
We are hot for one another,
Yet not blazing uncomfortably.
We sweat, but droplets do not cling
To our bodies like a second skin.
We forage for food, though we drink
Heavily from our canteens. When we
Reach an oasis, we gorge ourselves
And then refill our vessels to the brink.
We break often to relieve ourselves
Onto the sand. I write my name, but not yours.
At night, we sleep together, dreamless,
Within a tent that blocks out the stars.
A. J. Hayes
Give a poet a pen