…let the words flow like a river of thoughts, like a stream of dreams through the midst of the desert. Let them come to me, embrace me, hold me, as I have fallen and lost my compass, and there’s a long way ahead and a long walk beneath, and my hopes have shuttered to the ground.

Scream them to me, let me hear them… wrong, right, good or bad, simple, impossible words. Cause I have missed my trail, and with it, you and your being. Cause all I see are the dark apparitions of my fears, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing here, to take them away. Not even the void would suck them into nothingness.

There are, however, your tiny words that could tear this emptiness, words that can fill up the room, when your presence is demanded by anguishing demons craving your flesh, yet absurd reasons prevent your face from being adorned in my eyesight.

Weave those words into a string of stems and wrap it tight around my ankle. Hold me to the ground before I reach out and waste myself in the thin air of misery. Touch my skin like the snake insidiously encircles the leg of the sleeping Bedouin, and then never let me go.

PS. For all those who miss somebody today...