on a dust-covered road I search for your lips.

on a dust-covered road I search for your lips.
I bend over and look under each moss-wrapped stone.
coiled into spirals snails sleep in moist shade.
I wake them and ask where is he? they stretch out their drowsyhorns peek from their shells squint at the sun.
and vanish saying nothing. I ask the stone smooth
its rough surface with my warm hungry hand. it's silent.
I ask the sun. it bends its head to the west and I go after the sun westward to find you.