Sand, rock, warm-bellied critters – I cannot see the border of the desert. West ended in a broken camera lens. North ended in a wooden cross. South never began. Dare I go East? I do. And I find it. My oasis. Grass tickles up my ankles to my belly. Palm trees lean over me, offering shade, relief, protection. Cool waters wash the dust off my bones. I open my eyes. Still miles away, my oasis, lurking against the skyline. I take one step, smell green fronds and fresh algae. I take two steps, smell burnt sand and reptilian peels. Heat waves, from earth and sun, intertwine. My oasis shimmies and shimmers. Can I see through the air, hot and trembling, to my turquoise paradise? Or is it merely a mirage, as close to my hands as it is to the horizon?