A sea of sand so limerent.
Stalks its languid prey under a midsummer sun.

A pitiful camel and its sun-stroked captain.
Elements of pathos, on the verge.
Pursued blatantly by an army of rolling dunes.

Wisps of green,
simmer on the horizon.

As he rubs his eyes in excitement,
the greens,
bisected by a syzygy of phosphenes,
is an assurance,
an invitation.

The captain explodes,
and the camel rockets, charging through the sand,
hapless and broken.

The magic ends as the oasis melts,
and the duo sinks,
thirsty and shaken.

He drops, then retreats, dagger drawn.
A sidewinder follows, unabashedly limerent.
The desert is waiting.

Each, eyeing a kill.

From a Judas window,
of their own making.