Ghazal, R.Q
a procession of veils, daughter of white: the elder sister, river skin I devolve again. the golden stamen rubbed into weak eyes— decoded the myth we would not solve again. at night, you burned life into me: never did I worry about what it might involve: again fragrance of mandrakes seeped into my womb came two tender moons that will forever revolve again. my last breath came at morning, your right hand my pain you could not easily resolve again— shaved almond teeth torn out of tissue beds: into the ocean, I have watched them dissolve, again. a cave of fossils, under dust of scripts tucked inside your body, is where I evolve again.
1 year ago • Notes