He walked into the desert, her shadow faded to nought
He turned
Towards the shimmering sun, her image became a silhouette
The sound of water splashed
She was hidden but bathing
The sound of mindful meditations
She was quiet, but covertly waiting
He kicked the sand petulantly, her sting irritated the surface
He put his head into his hands, her voluble echoes vibrated
The scent of musk dashed
She was moving but scathing
The scent of old flirtations
She was still, still but hesitating
He walked out of the desert, her presence he had sought
He turned
As if time to run, from the essence he could not resurrect
