Tacitly
the water retreated,
slipping through
the scars of the Earth
unapologetically,
scorning and scorching
ingratitude
with arid winds.

The horizon curled
and rippled,
teasing our search
for clouds; I flicked
a bead of blood
from my lips,
fissured
and riven, like
the salt flats,
which glimmered,
alluringly, with
deadly, mineral snow.