This is my own tragedy
This telepresence, of sorts
I, loving you

Self-created, for my imagination is that of a girl reading far too many fanciful tales of interplanetary affection and of camel-led caravans of the Orient
The dust of this all still surrounds me

Something I alone permit
Against God’s will,
I believe in you


The caravan lurched to a halt
We fling open the door to the night
And laugh looking back
Veils whipping in the warm quiet
Lock-step, foreheads forward
Through sand and scorpion
Drawn, we touch 
The star-dusted moment in space
Where you tore time