Camel
I am like a camel wandering in a harsh and unforgiving desert. The heat manipulates my eyesight. The dunes warp and twirl subtly in front of me. I wonder to myself if whether or not the world has dried up, for I haven't seen water in miles and miles. My tongue lies in my mouth, shriveling like a prune, pitted and lightly bathed in crisped saliva. My spit is thick, coating my gums and teeth as if it were a translucent tar. I am thirsty, walking aimlessly—searching for some sort of lost oasis which may or may not exist. There must be a fresh pool standing alone somewhere; I dream of it in my parched thoughts. My skin burns—golden brown and tanning, cracking similar to the dusty, torrid dirt under my feet. The sun beats down hard on the barren land. I long for softer soil, to feel my toes dig into the porous ground. I wish for an all-encompassing shade to swallow the desiccating heat and the dehydrated swat droplets lining my brow. Where are you my palm tree? Can't you save me from my muscles turning to sand that slips from the sides of my bones? I wander in the harsh and unforgiving desert with only the water I've stored in my body. One day, it will be gone and I may still be looking for you, my lost and beautiful oasis.
poem by Tim Stensloff
Added by Poetry Lover
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