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Inadept to preserve
Hardened words
No one observes how tiresome we've become
Desert creatures
No room left to move
Stretching from our tight little shells
No way left to quell the infinite need
to catch the wind with our feet
Heeding ahead
Leading in dread
No choice left but spreading out
The gales on the sea
Seem frightfully free
It's hard to dream
When the mud is your sky
Shivering in sandy blankets
Dust cracking under the old
New skin discarding the remnants
I'd die in contentment
Just once if I could
Taste the wind wet on my lips