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Always a Desert

Wherever I go, it’s always a desert.
I’m always thirsty.
I don’t know if I have enough in my hump.
It’s satiation that I long for.
It’s the possibility to stop that I long for.
It’s the urge to go somewhere that I’d give up.
I walk on
not knowing if I can stop,
even if an oasis appeared.
Even though I’m certain I’d recognize one.
This walking, it drags me along.
Camels aren’t taught to stop, only to keep going.
I’m a camel, not for sure a female, but a general kind of camel.
I can’t see my hump,
though I know I have only one.
If I could turn back
would I discover that I actually left? Left something behind?
Wherever I go, it’s always a desert.