She has no questions, no words or sentences; a language is made up of sounds that don't spell meaning, only feelings. A simple touch, or a smile, comfort the silence; except for sweet laughter. The desert is home to many a family, but even there she learned to be alone, to be more; she desired to be more.
It was long before a wayward god or goddess had, on a rainy day, come up with poetic love. It was even before clouds could bring rain, before water would bring life; instead all just was, flowing on endless sands. There was no love yet, there wasn't sorrow either.
And one day, while she lies asleep in the vastness of it, a soft blush of red and purple appear as a soft breeze caress the desert, changing the colour of the sand. There was no sun, as the night hadn't been invented yet; stars - iinkwenkwezi - have forgotten their shyness and appear on a canvas of deep ocean blue. Before the very first daybreak, long before that, she learns to make love to herself.