Desire and Suffering
by Crystal Joyce
I'm cold.
I need the heat of your plains
To warm my right side
Not my left.
The tusks
Did not rest there.
I'm warm.
It's hot.
I need the cool
Ocean waves to roll over me.
Scratch the grit off with sandpaper
Pearls.
I fell right to the sandy
Floor, though I haven't got up.
I died right in the ocean
I died just like a wave.