Dust

The personification of dust in a hot climate

She fills the voids 

That we so desperately crave 

In lives already filled over 

The brim with our existence. 

She smothers the edge, a forgotten

Crevice tuned to an unrequited lover, 

Manipulating her way into the tempo, 

Singular moments, clinging to 

Every piece of broken memory.

She stings like an invisible

Mistress relishing the seconds

that pass-by, she is held in place

By a repeating fierce lash.

To her, she is merely caressing

The wind, yet we are here, 

Choking, coughing. She stops

Us sleeping. I sit here wishing,

For the cool blanket of Mother Rain.