"Pounding flesh and knives for eyes, slits really, dust caked
sweat turned to paste,
swollen tongue and dull heavy feet, we ride on camel back in lonely landscape. Forever
dunes sketch the flat horizon, the wind our enemy and only friend, the sound of beating heart
and gritty
dust, beasts drone insane rythms. Music is the sound of blood in crimson dance, heart not head,
stories of ancient
gods littering the dust before us, forever.
We talk to the wind in quiet stuttered tones. "
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