My constellation My launch pad of a thousand ships – your beauty is alchemy My belly is dough My breath is leaving me My knees betray
Tag: love story
Like Earhart
Ever since she left she keeps being gone. It is as if we were notBut if I am unrealWhy is my flesh stained by reality The shy part of my wrist a plum-blue and yellowSkin she has known as obscenely as her fingers reaching inside of my mouth. This is not a case of distance…
Amour
This beauty your smile – like a piece of the sun, Laughter thick as cream Days endured I wait for you an unanswered prayer
Open your chest and let the birds out
“Shy goddess, My love, my one. Your name is zikr – My chest tightens.” Love replies, “It tightens. You should open quietly, to let the birds out. Hear yourself.”
My body sends you letters
I miss you. From the rumble inside my gut I miss you. From the wince and gasping ache for your heat, I miss you. From between my tendons, from the twitch of my muscle, from the creak of my aging bones, I miss you. From the soft dark of my hot heart, the steady rise…
Postcards from Istanbul /6
“She inspired you, you loved her and sang of her; her task was done.” – Franz Liszt in a letter to Hector Berlioz, 1854 The give of a soft pear surrendering to my teeth. The burst of plum in my mouth; juice dribbling down my chin onto my helpless blue shirt. The tickle of…
Postcards from Istanbul /5
“Or give me back one shred from our hundreds of days – a forgotten word, or look – that I might lie here counting them, like sheep, waiting out the dark.” – Greg Johnson, Insomnia Dear, sweet one. Gratitude today for the precious few moments I received to see you. Your face that I…
Postcards from Istanbul /4
“When I met you, you were both for me: the sensual and the spiritual. The two can never separate…” – Paul Celan to Ingeborg Bachmann Paris, 31 Oct 1957 Precious, precious one. The day closes on me again. I am left wondering just how little life is and how fleeting our time on earth….
part-broken, part-whole 