Reese

He laughs like one of us, desert doesn't frighten you, his clothes hang in ruins, we go to meet the ones, my partner faintly rues, historians who've nearly gone, the almond trees bloom, on a bright lit afternoon, against a sea that's blue, nothing here is wrong, just the yellow truth, poetry of poverty's song, he looks like someone new, his old bones of truth, shine as the oasis soothes, he asks to hold my hand, his presence overpowers, the fragrance off the sand, makes me almost swoon.