The unknown rash that never heals, desire-
Ancient gods had many lovers whom they played
Dirty tricks on, turning them many times
Into animals, trees, or stars, and thank God
Nowadays things have got bit better-
In the dark, the lovers breathe,
Where the world hushes they dwell,
Lost in each other’s tides, on the salt-white altar of the bed,
Hands entwined like wisteria around fate’s limbs-
Here they become one with the blue,
So whole under the moon’s cold blue eyes-
And rightly so, as she’s the Cerberus of desire,
A gatekeeper to their hunger-
Oh, isn’t it lovely, my darling, close by you
Lovers intertwine like daring ivy,
Blissfully blind to the poison trickling from sweet vows,
While you, soul, stand where tides forgot the shore,
Where two shadows once braided their limbs,
They too entwining like ancient rivers trying to find
Their way home to the wide ocean of each other’s touch-
Sorry, soul, but no hidden valleys of a lover’s body
Lost within vibrant rhythms of the sky,
No shadows of blue limbs to reach for-
Now, only a cold light feeling your throat, and no,
No use at all in hunting the scent of your loss,
As you regret the heat of tangled limbs,
Or the awful blue of a lover’s ghost yanking the tides
Off your veins-
Now look, if things go sideways, you can always scratch
The blue off the sky, or choke the silence out of God,
And you won’t even have to tidy up the blue mess
You prayed for-
So, let whispers entwine with every shadow that drinks
The salt and the gleam of lost laughters, that jagged map
Of every night that got lost.