She was a woman of dunes

She was a woman of dunes

Her hips were ancient sands

And her flowing hands

Were deltas in the monsoon

Her skin traced desert lands

And her eyes dark moons

She was a woman of dunes.

Her legs figured a labyrinth

Of two winding mountain slitheroads

I've never smelt a hyacinth

But each and every of her skinfold

Had the scent of Sumerian codes.

Her lips tasted of hyacinth.

My mouth parched for the clouds of her tongue.

My hands roamed the tundra of her neck

In her pupils were taigas and snowspecks

The instant was neither short nor long.

It lasted.

Nought wasted.

My mouth quenched on the clouds of her tongue.

She was a woman of dunes

Her nude feet arched over me

Like pontoons over the sea

Her stillgaze was that of runes

Eidolon on the slow lea

She sleeps like sands on ruins

She is a woman of dunes.

to F.