Now I know what went wrong:
You were the Sun, and I stared too long. You were the Sun and, like Icarus, I soared too high. You were the Sun, and you eclipsed my heart. And even when you had turned me into a dessert — every dune, every scorching day and bone-chilling night, every caravan of hope crossing my planes, every grain of sand, all could not but utter these words: You were the Sun, you were once mine.