love is an illusion
and i’ve been lost in the desert
for centuries. scorpions prick
at my feet yet i tread on-
desperate to find my oasis,
my love, my one-and-only?
but what if love is a lie
and i have bound myself to
a lonely existence? a life of
waiting by the pier, waiting
indefinitely for that one boat to return
and dock and stop by that one
bar by the house and stagger home? will i find peace?
must i bury myself in sifting
sand to find the answers i
seek? a treasure trove of
skeletal rings and maybe,
maybe he will forgive me
for doubting such things…
Mecca-Amirah Jackson 