Walking around for hours,
He finally saw me a mile away.
Drenched in sweat,
Hoping to end his thirst,
The sailor took a part of me.
He took me with greed,
On his palms till he was done.

Quenching his thirst,
Closing his eyes momentarily,
Glancing down at me now,
Looking for what he wanted to see.
He smiled at me; I thought.
He smiled at himself;
Happy to be alive,
Happy to have survived.

The desert grew darker
As the sailer walked away.
With a part of me in him,
That was never his.
Leaving me there,
Incomplete and in pain,
To never come back;
To never recall a time,
When death was closer than a hug.

Time passed like the wind.
With each sailor I welcomed,
Loosing pieces of myself,
And smiling through the pain;
The pain of depletion.

I’m nothing but a depression now
On the hot sand,
Like the soil that was once my shore.

Thinking of the past everytime,
I know now of those sailors;
The ones who drank me up.
Never of this land,
They found me to kill me;
For greed or for fame.

But was it true that it was me?
On quelling their thirst,
Did they find out about me?
That I was made of salt?
That I shrinked their life again?
That I was the poison they feared?

But I also wonder,
What was better:
To be ignorant and never know?
To know and die when I’m already gone?

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