On this desert island,

Deserted from desserts

We take for granted like cars and jewels and shoes and

I see a hazy vision.


The heat of the summer’s air

Sizzles through my bones which melt before me

Like waterfalls of mirrors

Into a tropical oasis of


You. Where are you?

Here I am alone and I have not you.

Who are you?

I am me and I see not you.


The blood to my bones,

Maybe the heat will melt them till you appear


Here, please.


Washed up on this beach, melting

As the waves beat and crash,

Lamenting as you float on without me,

Out there at sea with all the other fishes.

This poem is about: 


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