Alexandria

I can feel myself swell already,
but I couldn't help this deadly thirst
that late last night, slipped inside
my bed.  Feeling Her breath
upon my lips sent me into a hunger
rivaling that cursed man, Erysichthon,
who angered the heavens with his
wanton destruction.

And yet, before me, now, that river
which might have quenched this flame
runs dry, dammed up by years
of neglect - due to war or human
ignorance alone, I was never sure;
they drank the water, thirsty and eager,
but left none for those to follow,
for neither friend nor foe.

But still, this thirst beckons me close
and fastens Her withered arms around
my head, pulling me into Her embrace
offering comfort as both She and I tear
our gaze from the river run dry
in search for some other life-giving liquor
that might one day replace the gift

self-replenishing and once held so dear

which Man burned away,
driven to madness by a sticky pride which
bade him drain the ever-flowing stream
bade him destroy the foreign memories
     which were also His
                           the knowledge, the beauty
     which was also His.