Sandstorm

Could I but forget your flawless face,

It lingers still, in a hot, angry, place.

A place where plague will break, sicken,

In my heart, which you have made quicken.

I think I'll call you Alice.

Summer's seen you crest up, and down.

Its heat's known blue yes, green, brown,

Colours of the earth, yet somehow duller,

My desert eyes, brown and yellow in colour.

I'll ask you to call me.

Maybe a mirage, this flashing far oasis,

Worth letting go, perhaps, if I can reach this.

Impossible to survive sunburn and dehydration,

Per chance it was worth, the impulse migration.

I'll call across the street that I like your new jeans.

Swept streets sand free, the water's pure.

The guards at my gate well dressed, demure.

Through my chiffon I still see your face, it's warn.

But as a stranger I'll guide you through the sandstorm.

A collect call to tell you, I found the codes.