Remember! slave

The desert is not certain if you are

a likely slave.

Escape from capture

leads to thirst

then death.

Remember!

The dry papery feel of skin,

the worn, cracked

edges of weeping feet,

the strangely pillowed

callouses in my fists.

And the sandstorms outride

everything.

Mirroring the haze within.

My belly hungry

for just the merest hint

that I too am a person.

In time, the dunes sweep over

even this,

leaving a dessicated shell of feeling:

fear clings to hunger

clings to thirst

clings to pain.

And more and more I know I might

trade a life for a simple smile.