Desert

 Handprints

in the sand. 

The surface, 

Smooth to the touch, 

and always warm. 

 

Alluring

and the ocular sky, 

cloudless. 

Seemingly surrounding, 

lost in your deep azure.

 

It never used to rain.

Heaven's eye

seemed to constantly shine. 

Hiding the empty desolation

above and beneath. 

Your light illuminated, 

even through the strands of night

that covered your beauty. 

And when poetry was read, 

you seemed to shine brighter. 

And you gave me more warmth

with that invisible touch.

 

WHen it rains, 

it is a sad, strange sight. 

Only once. 

And on that night, 

I kissed the ground

that warm, smooth surface.

And brushed, 

those black strands aside. 

You must always shine. 

Always. 

A promise deserted, 

but never you.