Desire Drowning in Desert

She can't get angry by the abstract,
So she weaves tales of a stark obliqueness.
Desire drowning in desert,
The art of attrition.
Blood against a white background as
She builds him in the sand
A token, emblematic,
A shambling straw man in the line of fate, of futility, of folly.
She piles him high and stares.
His body is barren,
Riddled with holes,
Spirit strained through intangible years she can only imagine,
Grasping for that jouissance that has evaporated into the ether
But lay etched across the skin.
There is no one to fill in the ellipsis but her,
Her longing for him.
He greets her,
Scarred and weathered with wisdom infinite,
And she loves him for it.