Nomad: a person who doesn’t stay long in the same place; a wanderer.
Your eyes always traveled from my spine to the slender nape, I couldn’t see backwards but I felt your gaze. The way your touch would maneuver my back made butterflies flutter inside my stomach. My mouth was your secret keeper and my tongue, the seal that sat upon it. I wish you had stayed a little longer but I’m afraid my pastures ended too soon. I wasn’t all greenery and colorful lilies, my thighs were sand dunes changing shape; too quick for you to chase. I thrust my fingers in your wounds so that you could see for once and not turn away but a lost soul like you would never abandon your ways. The oases within me weren’t enough to fulfill your thirst; you looked for open blue skies but were met with the scorching sun. The more I tried to embrace you, the more it burnt your skin. So, you left one last time with hopes of settlement. My sands tell me that your eyes still harbor my face; your fingers tremble to write about me. She is the perfect pasture for you, I’m afraid not all travelers can withstand a desert like me.