Always. Always say always.
Only today can we say our story.
A thousand small Persian horses sleeping
Yes, the syllable sprains like a dry branch
in the plaza with the moon on your forehead.
Come out and shine like a crocus shines
when I embrace your waist four nights.
No one knows the perfume
that ignites our alphabet.
No one knows the martyrdom
half lost in a pollen dusted lawn.
Do not question elegance. The world opens up to you
between gypsum and jasmine.
Do not ask the word what shapes each side.
Your body is a fugitive of always.
Enemy of the snow
stamped on a worn wall.
A hummingbird of love between the teeth.
This is not what we are; this is not what we want.