When The Party Is Over

When the party is over, when the season ends, when the birds begin to sing, when the plane has departed, when the plants have died, when the taxi comes, when you are gone…

A scream that comes out backwards. Carving a hole inside your throat. Eroding flesh as waves to rocks. There’s no relief.

Depleted. Exhausted. Just wanted to stop by your well in this desert. Thirst cannot be quenched for you are a mirrage.