Specs of pepper on sand; they blossomed into mirages of men riding camels.

I’d waited.

A gem-within-a-gem, I was a dollop of gold in an emerald oasis.

(But not always.)

“Your third wish is my command,” he’d said.

“I wish to be powerful, like you, without taking orders from peasants, so I shall have hunger for life.”

He listened, closely. “I’ll grant every word.”

Now, upon finding me, they rubbed.

I emerged afore widened eyes and devoured their souls.

(I wish I’d listened; closely as he):

“Commands you won’t take,” he’d said, “…✨granted✨… your hunger for life: insatiable.”

(Virulent.) Bloodthirsty.

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