Three days without water,
the Sun, hair in your eyes
or anywhere, or everywhere else.
Three days is time enough
to dehydrate, to move, to set fire.
Enough to remove totems, obstacles
to construct one perfect shrine
and move it to your closet.
Three days is a desert and one canteen
a compass and knife. No maps
are needed, only a false sense
of direction; anchors into the Earth.
The mirages will come and go.
Don’t mind them. Do remember, though,
three days will not give back any days prior.