Lost

Scratchy throat, so dry
so painful, almost
almost feels like a cats
dry tongue, scraping it’s
rough way down my scorching throat.

Three days now, I’ve been
stranded in this barren brown sea
of sand
alone as Adam before Eve.
I’ve walked until the relentless sand has etched
itself angrily into my pores, until
my feet are ugly red balloons,
swollen now, broken and preparing.
Roads and evidence of life evaporate
as I trudge these hot, dusty miles.

Two days
two days since life
has touched my lips – life, that
bounty of nature, that key
to tomorrow. That cool, nourishing sweetness
to calm the cat licks of my throat.
Two days since the cool has wet
my palate and eased the incineration
of my throat, my skin, my clarity.

One day
one day I’ll find that
water was just a dream, that
a road to somewhere was truly a path
to nowhere.
There never was a mirage, even,
trekking those blistering, solitary miles.

And one time
one time I’ll tell myself
it was worth it
it was worth the trip, it was worth the challenge.

But, I won’t believe it.