september 2021

 

                  (i)



...my 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...

 

 

 

 

                           (ii)



...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...