Cathy Carroll

Naming Desire

I want to walk through the desert
under the hot sun, until my lips are parched
and I plead for rain.

Stand in the rain, drenched to the centre
of my being, so that I can name
every drop that has fallen

from the sky. I’ll be all the tones
of blue and the sun will
hang from me.

Until evening when I become the moon.


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