Category Archives: original

The cut (original)

See here, on my cloud-shadowed palm, a still-bloodied cut, where my falcon’s talon grazed my hand? He’s off to look for prey. Never jessed, he sits by me, or, sometimes, on my arm, turning side-to-side, eyes unbound, alert to motion dark in the pale desert. … Continue reading

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Prescriptive (original)

If happiness is honey-like, so sweet and thick that it tickles the back of your throat and makes you choke, or if it’s wine-like, something to swallow, but never to languish in, if you hold up your hands to keep … Continue reading

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The value of dissolution, part 2

Chhoti Bahu, big-eyed, liquid-limbed, held by inner-space, broidered and decorated, sharaab-hazed, throwing petals: what could be more gentle? He flinches, even so. Are the roses carved from flint? Does he hear her song loud, an acid vibration in his ears? … Continue reading

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Three years three months and counting (original)

“There’s no one like you,”
she whispered, turning away.

The leaves are flying,
rattling soft like small bones…       Continue reading

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Three babes in the night (original)

Child of innocence, child of passion, now love unclothed: This child endures your wintry lightning, alive in my arms. Cheek cupped in the palm of a hand, your sweetness all around, your pine honey scent thickening my sleep, an hour’s … Continue reading

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Summer in three movements (original)

Prelude and theme Summer’s packed me in honey, dusted me with grains of sun, and washed me in its rain. Refreshed and dazed, my walks to evening dreams fog up and disappear, somewhere between here and there. Naach We’re all … Continue reading

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Simple

I’ve become simple in your hands. A few strokes of the pen, in simple black India ink, laid onto creamy white rice paper, or Bristol board. I’m as simple as a hand-inked heroine, her garb so tight, you can see … Continue reading

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Soft basket (original)

I dreamed I saw your name. Over my shoulder, slung by its handles, this soft basket woven of grasses, striped, shaped like a plum but larger, almost empty, holds a stone a shadow self that comes and goes and you … Continue reading

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Clouds, like Toledo

From the Major Deegan, going southeast a mile below the bridge, a sky of wind-driven clouds, like Toledo by El Greco, rose over the river and the island beyond. On high bluffs opposite, bare smoky trees, their billows shearing west … Continue reading

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Like a fall of earth (original)

Like a fall of earth
in a tiny cavern
made by a beetle,
like a raindrop
making no splash
on a delicate leaf…
Continue reading

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