May 18, 2022
In the Deep, Unexpected Dark
—for May Ziadeh
I cried my tears. I cried your tears on your behalf. I cried in the places where your tears melted and trickled towards mine. I felt your fears and my themes passing through me and on... I looked into your years, and wants, and words. That night, you came to me at midnight. I thought you'd been holding back a little of your smile to not frighten me, stepped back and away after your hands swept over my calves, smiling, but you were aglow, despite your own consideration. In that dark midnight hour, your smile seeped through the night through my closed eyelids, despite your own efforts, like flower-honeyed sea blossoms seeping into the warm, damp air, well-past midnight, into that unsuspecting darkness of earliest summer, like melted honey sweetening the whole cup, tantalizing, strawberry-like, too. One night, I heard you begin to sing for me, a little operatically, but very quietly and gently: my name, just that one note. I thought, "Are you writing me a song?" You laughed warmly and said, “That's it..." and then you sang my name again.
photo May 19, ’21
I wasn’t trying to fly, was doing yoga. 🙂
Read the poem, ”Capricious” by May Ziadeh.