Asilia

You will notice first, the bone jutting from my meat, it is called teeth, These are my lips; This, like so, is called a smile. And then there are the fabrications that I wear The layers of silk, of wool, of iron air (indeed there is an air that I am not quite there) - And feathers I have wrapped into my hair And Afghan pearls, and finally My hands, hare-fleet, and meeting yours.

You used to show me your skeleton, the secrets inside of you, your marrow. You run, you shut your eyes, now. You shut your eyes at the color of the flowers, the leaves, everything is orange. I am gathering acorns. I am wearing your mask.

Even in my dreams, dear, I am sick of your ghost. You haunt me when my eyes close, amidst the candy cane trees my mind makes up; You stroll along the sea grass          laughing, like a hyena. You grab my hand And I have to remind myself: this is only a dream, a dream! I scream, I scream. Your laughter is thick as honey now. I can hear the bees. They swarm, and I think suddenly that I can feel pain in dreams, can you? You are silent, I am under the buzzing wings, floating Away from you. Your ghost is farther away than ever, now. Sometimes I wake: a bee stuck in my throat.