Al-Ain, United Arab Emirates

I want to be changed and cured by what I see—

How he set himself spinning, one foot on a billion grains of sand.

To be eternal as dunes and slow with substance—

He wore green half-sleeves and rolled white pants.

He fell down the wind.

He scrolled up and down the glass dunes, breaking the ridges.

I imagined loving him. He was otherwise to himself.

The desert piled soft.

The world was full and still filling.