see the desert, and bring me here.
the ravens will love me more than my friends,
fawning and swooping over my bones.
at night the coyotes will hollow a song out of my skull
long and dreadful enough to bring me home —
I must die alone, I will
chisel the names of god on black stones
so the vultures and lizards might understand our suffering.
things unnamed will devour my skin
and the sands will have their due.
the last of its kind shudders free one last breath
from its aching body and ceases to be
me, that is me, over and over.
see the desert, and leave me here.