Gnawing Hungers: Arid Version.

I let the night pierce me like a blunt blade.

I walk in silence, chewing on the remaining shadows.

The sphinx watches me with its fixed, sandy eyes,

and the poison within me breathes slowly, like a beast that never forgets.

I carry within me an oasis that dries up at the slightest movement,

and my losses whisper truths I would rather ignore.

Time lacerates me with a tongue of stone until light sprouts from the wound…

one hunger devours another until only the echo of bone remains.

The wind pierces me in search of traces I no longer possess,

and the earth raises questions that never die, even when crushed.

I carry a thirst that drinks only what escapes me,

and the night stitches together the shadows where the day left holes.

There is a desert within the desert that calls to me.

Ruins that recognize my steps as ancestral guilt.

The sphinx smiles because it knows I fear the answer,

and the poison makes thorns grow where silence should reign.

There is a buried mirror that reveals what I avoid.

The sun marks me like an executioner who knows my name.

Hunger guides me like a dog sniffing mirages,

but the map tattooed on my body always points to the abyss.

The night calls me, knowing I return broken,

and the silence watches like a beast assessing its leap.

I walk because to stop would be to accept defeat…

and the sphinx breathes nearby, reminding me that every answer hurts.

The poison flows in the search for a place to die

in this hunger inscribed in me by letters that cannot heal.

The oasis cries out with a sweetness that does not deceive

and in my chest, an animal growls against every lie.

Night envelops me in arms that do not warm me

and the desert calls me by the name I have hidden.

I walk on bones of questions that creak.

The sphinx follows me because my hunger is ancient.

The poison consoles like a lover who promises nothing

and one thirst scratches, giving way to another thirst.

The oasis observes me, knowing that I do not believe.

My scars write poems that I refuse to read.

The night offers shelter, demanding every shadow

and the desert grows when I breathe, shrinks when I lie down.

I walk because the stillness bites me deeper…

I answer the sphinx with another question because I have no flesh left.

Each poison teaches the secret gleam of pain

and hunger still clings like a mother who never gave up.

The oasis disappears when I approach

and the desert devours me slowly because it recognizes its offspring.