let’s imagine that together
we are one untranslatable word.
our meanings cudgelled to something
that breathes only at the boundaries of accidents.
an orphaned nuance. semaphored, then gagged.
let’s try to make this confusion beautiful
the best way we can - let’s sky over what is
fustian, garbled, like our bodies were shapeless
hyperboles. maybe make syntax out of silhouettes.
consider cafune, & best explain it as the way
night licks the last embers of wind from a wolf’s fur.
or how that an egret saltates against
the silvered foil of an idle stream.
maybe i fernweh, that debt of distance always
cursing me out to ransom. that cartography
i covet but can’t contain. your body growing
into an echo - memory turning into mourning.
dear circus lion, i’d rather watch & winnow
a bonfire of ticket-stubs than to think of
all the nights you stagger rehearsing your dance
through those bronzed wreaths of tameless flames.
i’d rather the jaws of serengeti, the empire of a maneater
not this declawed animal cowering in the incongruence of shame.
let’s imagine that we can stitch up a scarecrow
from all the wool we pulled over each other’s eyes
& refuse the liquorice-winged omens their nesting
feast. let’s allow me a moment to watch desire fled
like a colt cutting through a tremble in the barley.
let us forget that the day you told me about your dream,
you had a spot picked, a bridge, a precise height
from where to dive & i didn’t think about my father
- same age as you when he hushed his own heartbeat
- his body bloated to a blue lily; thick with strangled
nightmares; floating against a seasurf of spanish red.
consider ya’aburnee :
the final plea
that you will bury me.
cafune (Brazilian Portugese) - running your fingers through your lover’s hair
fernweh (German) - wanderlust for a place you have never been
ya’aburnee (Arabic) - a declaration of one’s hope that they’ll die before another person because of how difficult it would be to live without them.