How to survive the winters. Let your eyes climb down the bridge of her nose. But your gaze must be soft and diligent,. Or it could shatter her fragile flesh. Your eyelids must maintain an endless balance,. As though they were carrying precious stones. One eager step, a sudden shift,. Or an ill-timed blink;. Devastation is just a sip away. Follow the cut of her upper lip, the way. It stretches on either side. Like wings during an interlude;. Half content, half restless.

Words were her plague, Words were her redemption. My ugly orange dress;. Chaotic, malignant mess;. Blue, brown, purple, pink,. Caught up in my throat. These hiccups called death;.

And I, the cursed phantom foot-soldier. If the war be futile. If the chants be fruitless. If my honor be my cage. If a silent life in the desert. Of the deserted be kinder. Can be buried in sandstorms. If sand wraiths will let my hermitage be. If in a faraway oasis. My beloved shall come to me. And no battle-song shall ever accompany.

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