Desert Blues

She was the last camel
in the caravan,
lost in thought, falling behind.
Her heart heavier
than the load on her back,
light as the love on her mind.

She looked up at the sky,
where mighty blue camels
trudged across dunes of white.
Where a young buccaneer
sang with the birds,
drank at oases of molten starlight.

He had followed her
through the morning mist,
once caught her watching him.
How long, she wondered,
before they could meet
at the golden-azure rim?

The blue desert
was turning pink,
the sand took on a darker hue.
She could close her eyes
in the warm firelight,
maybe he’d dream of her too?

“There are various eyes. Even the Sphinx has eyes: and as a result there are various truths, and as a result there is no truth” –  Friedrich Nietzsche

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