Singing Sand

Remeniscent of the desert
Irony.
My Virgin lover,skin of brazen pottery
Half buried,amid shifting sand
Amorous.
As the waves flow,slide,mingle
Layer over minute boundless layer.

She is softer
than the sand itself,
The silent sinking
an anklet adorned foot
Barely,half an inch
Into the parched,giving
Sand.

She is greater
than the dunes
Streching into oscilloscopic
Reading
The dangerous curves
Lying on her side
Warmth
The blanket,her sky.

She is the intricacies
of some unknown reptillian
Shiny scaled,flickering
against the dawn
Ra!
Winding sidelong
Birthing,cold wisps
Settling shadows,
Anubis.

She is that single grain of sand
By itself, is silence
perfect and round
Incomplete.
The grain bushes past
Me.
The solitary dancing
Of blue-grey wind
We Sing
The hymn of Nomads.

-Me