Jump to content



Recommended Posts



How can the heavens part, and yet reveal only silent, trembling stars?

I looked for you in Dakhla, my path lit by the soft glow of stars.


In the desert, sand swallows sound as well as footprints.

Even the sky must soon fall into the dust of the stars.


You are neither morning shadow against the dunes

Nor blank evening spaces stretched out amongst the stars.


The wisest of men were baffled by your mystery,

Their hearts cut from their chests and set as tiny pulsing stars.


I wrapped my form in fig leaves and served it to the cold white moon,

Never thinking you were watching from behind twin pointed stars.


Where is the reaper now, they ask: not knowing that they have harvested me

And strung my body wide across relentless writhing stars.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

This topic is now closed to further replies.
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Guidelines.