september 2021


                  (i) dear, shy habibi

I have seen your wounded looks many times


and many times I have felt you pass

through the reticence of my soul


a shadow among shadows

healing yet hurting 


this bitter transcendence

of never having known you


your breath as my breath

your hands as my hands


for without words, without touch

I was bereft of air


and left to cherish

only the wounded universe of your eyes


and so as I lived I died

stanzas choking my heart


watching the horizon

in case I missed again some chance to breathe


to love far beyond myself

this marriage to an impossible conceit...






...just how far can this

intuitive counterpoint go


expletives, for example, fill the mind

and flies warm themselves in the sun


perihelion approaches 

and these specks of dark matter


these liver spots on the backs of my hands 

mark the end of immortality


clearly then, ribosomes are simply lost stars 

and these trees, they too, are just signs of lust


of slow, unending penetration 

expletives that rage and rage


at this massive helix warming itself in the dark 

toying with extinction


a protein for vice

a lipid for the underworld


in vivo, in vitro 

my hands crumbling


filling my mind

with some invincible, everlasting free-fall...