The Desert

You're lost in the desert.
Your horse died miles ago.

Surrounded by ghosts,
the wind whips sand
into your eyes.

You've given away your name -
let it bleed through your dry lips
into the wind.

You're becoming transparent.

Your parchment skin
can't keep the sand
from your bones.

The wind
and the sand
pull you particle from particle.

The sand has your bones.
The wind has your name.