13. bara imambara

Children are tumbling across the masjid courtyard,
darting past each other like needle
and thread through ancient stones.
Call to prayer enswathes the evening
and every atom of me stand on end in wanting.

With gold I am sewing it all to my mind,
every guttural syllable of God,
every carefully latticed year lain before me

as the writer sits,
silent. His profile juts austere
against the white marble rising to frame him,
a shah unlikely, eyes closed, consulting
the living, breathing
violet of millennia
before he returns, sarcastic, to this world.
I like him better like this,
before he remembers to be.

I hear the quiet click of the camera
when he thinks I’m not looking,
but fair is fair; I’ve already saved him
like that in my head,

in the incredible electric sigh of now.


One thought on “13. bara imambara

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s