why as the sun bleeds, sighs, over new white cloth
bleaching the world ochre
skin melting over brittle bones
fissures appear on flats of desert sand
trees wilt, flowers wither, vines shrivel, rivers run dry
our ligaments and muscles weaken
and we begin to muse,
why can't we survive?
why does the carcass lay in sand
only to be torn apart
hyena cackles and bloodied teeth
vultures circle ripping beaks
organs eaten, livers swallowed, blood licked off open vein
pain walks up and caresses us in crushing embrace
and we begin to weep,
why aren't we dead yet?
why does rain refuse to fall
to wash the blood away
acidic iron boring through stone
and stomach cramps wrack as the body breaks
water deprived, fingers shaking as we crawl, scraping our chests across the ground
and we begin to laugh,
it's horrible, isn't?
it's a horrible sound.
why don't we feel ANYTHING?
and as your weak, pitiful, writhing form stills in the mountainous dunes of sand
your corpse is picked clean,
and not a day goes by before your dripping, tarnished remains
are buried forever