In the desert, in October,
All my thoughts were sane and sober.
When I met you it was over.
…You went away, before too long.
I left, the day you disappeared,
To the mountains, sharp and sheer,
Where the air was cold and clear…
I thought I’d lost you; thought you’d gone.
I recall I heard a sound,
You said my name, I turned around,
Long ago, the night you found me,
When you came to Tashkurgan.
I wrapped myself in your embrace,
And while you slept, I watched your face,
Wondering if this was the place
Where I could stay. Where I’d belong.
I recall the night I cried
Because the people said you lied,
And the quiet way you tried
To tell me that it wasn’t true;
And in Gulmit, I spoke coldly.
I recall the things you told me.
That night you only came to hold me,
But I was afraid of you.
Days went by, the sky grew white,
You came to me no more at night,
I could not smile, I could not write.
Flames of pain within me burned.
I swore I would drown the embers.
I swore I would not remember.
And I left you, in December.
I swore I would not return.
I recall the things you said.
Your voice was harsh. Your heart was dead.
Songs of sadness filled my head,
And again I was alone.
Years have passed. I feel the same.
I recall the night you came
To Tashkurgan and said my name,
Long before you turned to stone.
In a distant desert town,
I sat on the dusty ground.
I was happy, till you found me,
And my eyes were bright and blue.
When my heart is filled with thunder
In the night, I sometimes wonder
How you tore my world asunder
…Why I still remember you.
Now I read these words you write,
And I lie awake at night,
Wondering if I ever might
Travel back to Tashkurgan.
I recall the day it started,
And the silent way we parted.
I swore I was not broken-hearted –
I imagine I was wrong.
– Written by Anna Williams at Age 22