I do not know where to begin. This body of work is so masterful in so many ways. I feel the loneliness, and the aching hot desert days. Much of what you write touches me down to my cellular level and reawakens apart of me that relates to my lineage that beckons me to wake up and remember. The feel of these desert spaces that you speak of that is indeed native and indigenous to me. My ancestors three generations removed are from Sudan and Nubia. I have not visited but I have seen pictures, my daughter who is a world traveler has been to Egypt twice in the last 6 years.
As I read your masterful poem I hear the music of the oud played by the late great composer Hamza El Din. (I did get a chance to see him perform live in the early 90’s in New York). I also hear this song called Pearls by Sade, the lyrics keep ringing through my mind….
There is a woman from Somalia
The Sun gives her no mercy
The same sky we lay under
Burns her to the bones.
Long as afternoon shadows
It’s gonna take her to get home
Each grain carefully wrapped up, Pearls for her little girl.

Your approach to the prompt subject you chose is far removed from anything I could have ever expected, it truly is overwhelming and transforming. It humbles me as I think about how much we take for granted what we have, and how we in our busy societies filled with all things we could ever wish for yet it seems, is still not enough because we find time and space to still complain. I give thanks right now for all I have.