My throat is dry a desert I roam
by nav5rai
· 18/02/2026
Published 18/02/2026 14:35
My throat is dry, a desert I roam,
a crumpled bottle, a vessel not home.
Caught in heatwaves, the sun burns away,
a thirst so deep, it begs me to stay.
With every sip gone, what do I seek?
Dust in my lungs, words begin to peak.
Lingering questions hover like fog,
yet all I can taste is the air, the smog.